When I stopped at Circle K for my morning coffee there was a disheveled, bearded man who appeared to be sleeping on the sidewalk next to the building. As I left my car and started into the store, though, he opened one eye and asked if I had any change.
Not now, I told him. But that I might have some when I come out of the store. When I came back he was waiting expectantly, but the only change I had was a five dollar bill. After wrestling with myself for a minute I decided to give it to him. After all, he looked like he was hurting and could use a drink. And that five dollar bill might get him a small bottle of Vodka, enough to at least carry him for a couple of hours.
While I rarely bummed money for a drink because it was faster to steal it, I certainly could relate to what he was going through. Because there was a period of my life when I was never far from a bottle. Even when I was using heroin I always had a beer or other beverage close by.
I felt some pity for the man because help is available. There are programs that will take him in right away - whether he has money or not. But 30 years of experience working with alcoholics has taught me that until an alcoholic or addict has had enough pain and suffering they won't quit. When life becomes miserable then we stop - unless we die first.
As I drove away I had a moment of gratitude. Because, had I not reached a point of pain that had become intolerable I might have found myself panhandling outside a convenience store instead of living sober for over 30 years.
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