It was a chilly October evening as I walked through a bustling Times Square on my way home from work. I was headed to the subway, when a man on the side of the street caught my attention. (Let's call him Jason -- he insisted on remaining anonymous.) He sat on a carton with his legs wrapped up in a green and orange camouflage blanket, shivering under the bright lights with a sign that read something along the lines of "Today is my 27th birthday, anything helps." It hit me in a spot in my heart that I hadn't tapped into in quite a while... living in New York City tends to make you a little cold sometimes -- no matter how much you try to stop it from happening.
First, let me just say that I'm a sucker for birthdays. My mom totally made me feel like a queen every March 29th of my life growing up. She'd make me my favorite breakfast and we would sit and eat it as a family before we headed off to school. On every March 28th, I'd head up to my room a little earlier, knowing that my mom was sitting downstairs putting together birthday decorations for the next morning -- streamers and posters filled with loving words and baby pictures. I would go to bed with a full-heart knowing that when I walked down the stairs the next morning, I'd be filled with a kind of love that can't be explained.
So, when I saw this man, my heart broke a little bit more than it normally would. Initially, I decided to walk past him with a heavy heart, but as I headed towards my subway station, I had a feeling that I needed to do something more...not in effort to be a "good person" or do a "good deed," but just because. My soul told me that it needed to happen, so I turned around and headed his way. After talking to him for a few minutes (and realizing I only had a credit card on me), I told him that I would head to McDonald's and buy him food: chicken tenders, a chicken sandwich, fries, a drink, and an ice cream -- who doesn't want a treat on their birthday? We all deserve it.
He probably thought I wasn't coming back because the wait was so long, but when I finally left McDonald's and headed towards him, his eyes lit up in a way that I'll never forget. My heart was warm, and as he unwrapped the sandwich, I knew that what I had just did would be something that I would remember forever.
I waved goodbye to him, and as I walked away, I got the chills. I spent the whole commute home thinking about our interaction, and as it rained that night, I couldn't help but think about where he was. Was he safe? Warm? Dry?
I took the same route to and from work every day after that, and I never saw him again. Until today. And he was holding the same "27th birthday" sign. At first, I was a little heartbroken and disappointed. I decided that maybe I still look at the world with rose-colored glasses sometimes. "Be a little less trusting and a little more realistic," I told myself in my head. But as I settled into my desk at work, I couldn't help but think about the story behind this man and his sign.
There had to be a reason why he sat there with a birthday sign twice in a one-month span... after all, we all know that we only have one birthday per year. Instead of telling myself to take off my rose-colored glasses (and throw them in the trash), I decided to head back to Times Square and learn about his story.
I grabbed my notebook and phone, sprinted out of the office, and headed to Times Square. Once I spotted him on the side of the street, I sat down next to him and explained that I recognized him and had given him food a few weeks earlier. "I see you're holding the same sign that you had on the night I gave you food," I said. He looked at me, embarrassed but amused by the fact that I had remembered.
"So when is your actual birthday?" I asked. "And does your sign always say that it's your birthday?"
He proceeded to tell me that his real birthday is May 26 -- the day he started panhandling on 7th Avenue in New York City. "I made $400 that day," he recalled. He said that since then, he's brought in an average of about $100 per day.
He uses the birthday sign because "It's just easier. It's not more profitable, but it's just easier." He said, "I don't have to sit as long." Meanwhile, as we sat there talking, three people handed Jason money. "When I turn 28, my sign will say it's my 28th birthday."
Jason currently has three kids that's he trying to support: twin 5-year-olds and a 9-month-old baby. His girlfriend lives with her mother, but Jason recalls that at one point, "She was actually on the street with me... pregnant." His girlfriend lives with her mother who "can't stand" Jason, so he's on the streets, doing what he can to survive and help his kids.
At one point, he owned his own business in New Jersey where he fixed computers and cell phones, but once the business tanked, Jason had nowhere to turn. So he hit the streets. He hasn't started looking for another job because he still doesn't have a legal ID.
He's been homeless for about three years now, but Jason has only been in New York for one year. He grew up in Monmouth County, New Jersey, and he moved to the city because he can "panhandle without getting in trouble." He wasn't allowed to sleep on the streets in New Jersey, but now that he's in New York, he says "I stay out here every night."
He emphasized that this winter will be his third winter without a home. "I have a sleeping bag, so it's not that cold," he said. "I can always sleep in Port Authority if I want to."
A woman with a backpack and a dog walked by us and asked Jason if he knew of any nearby Irish pubs. He looked up and told her, "I don't drink. I don't like drinking." He said this with strong conviction, so I just as boldly asked him what he spends his money on and whether or not he's saving any of it. "I use it for clothes, for food... so I can buy my kids stuff."
That last part made my heart sink, and for a second, I considered telling him that I would buy his kids presents for the holidays. Who knows, maybe I'll go back and talk with him again soon, and maybe I will buy presents for his kids, but I'm so glad that I went and talked to him. That I heard him out. That I got the deeper version of his story... because birthday or not, we all have a story to tell, and sometimes, we just need someone to listen.