Waiting at a stoplight yesterday afternoon, I saw a homeless man up ahead. He walked along the side of the driver’s window. The light was red. In his right hand, he held a bouquet of pink lilies. Instead of asking for money, he was throwing the entire long stem into the window of the car. The guy in front of me drove a grand new Mercedes 4×4 and wore silver sunglasses. The man approached the driver’s window and threw the lily into the window.

When people beg for money at intersections, often they’ll offer a small token for your gesture: a grasshopper made from palm leaves; a pencil; or at least a cup to drop the money into. Every time I’ve given money I’ve usually been blessed or at least profusely thanked by the person. This man had seen a few long days and nights on the street. Who knows where he got the flowers. The man in the Black Mercedes started digging frantically in his car for some change. The light turned green. And then, the man with the flowers began to approach my car.

I waved my hands back and forth and started to say: no, no, no! My car was moving, and I didn’t want the flower. There wasn’t any time for change. As I passed the man, he held the flower up and with great accuracy, he tossed it into my window. Drops of water splashed my sunglasses from the wet stem. I was moving to fast. Stopping wasn’t safe. A car was inches from my bumper. I moved ahead. I felt horrible.

I went home and put the flower in a vase. Earlier that day I had read that many of us have a hard time accepting. If we are all working on giving, there has to be receptacles for the gifts, right? I took the gift,; said what thanks I could; and hoped the man had a warm and dry night.