I was pulling my car into a parking place in front of a Walgreen's store last Thursday evening in Las Vegas, when I saw a man approaching my car out of the corner of my eye. His gait was unsteady, his clothes were sweat stained and dirty. When I opened my door and stepped out he approached me with his hand extended.

"I'm hungry," he said. "Can you help me get something to eat?"

Since I normally give something to those who approach me for help I reached in my pocket and took out my wallet. Even though I was certain he needed the money for drugs, I found a five dollar bill and handed it to him. Anyway what he did with the money was not between me and him -- it was between him and God. He shook my hand in gratitude.

"Thank you, Brother," he said. "I just can't seem to get up out of here."

He went on to tell me that he had been beaten up the night before. His assailants had knocked out four teeth. He smiled at me to prove it. Sure enough, there was a lone tooth in the middle and the two on both sides were missing.

Since I am in the recovery field and our program has a facility in Las Vegas I suggested that I take him there for help.

"Oh, I was there before," he said.

"And what happened?"

He went on to tell me that he had been unable to find a job when he was in our program previously. He also talked about having had a conflict with one of our staff members. There were several other reasons why he had failed, all excuses I'd heard before from those who weren't quite ready to get sober.

Before I left him in the parking lot I told him that our door was open when he was ready. As I drove away I had a sense of gratitude for my own recovery.