Everything We Needed: A Story about Vince, Me & the Streets of DC
new from the tower, now on the studio floor
I took the long way home last night by accident. Dulles is not my favorite airport and evidently my car knows it. That’s why every time we leave the parking garage I insist driving around in circles just to make sure we never find our way back. Last night my missteps landed me on a highway that takes you straight through the city around a few bends and straight to my house. Which would be perfectly fine if the middle of town did not happen to include one of those neighborhoods where people are routinely shot and left for dead while people wander around telling themselves there’s really nothing they can do.
Still. I have a hard time being afraid in this neighborhood. I know it’s the things that people say that make a place scary most of the time, more than the place itself. I know that real people live there and that 99% of them are just trying to get by like me and you and everyone else.
These are the things I told myself as I pulled over to rescue my little car from the perils of driving way past empty.
I opened the door to pump and immediately a guy approaches me, ready to give his pitch. I’d been hearing pitches all weekend at the Boom Boom Baby Room in LA with my sisters Kris and Patience, so I knew the drill. Listen, smile, nod, wave. But the beauty of the pitch at the gas station–especially in this part of town–is that there are no rules. You can say anything you want in return and anything can happen.
The guy starts to talk, but I cut him off. “Tell me,” I ask him warmly, feeling like it’s old home week. “What do you need? Tell me what you really need.”
He looks back, a little surprised. “Well, to tell you the truth I really need five dollars.” And then he falls silent.
“No problem,” I say. “Give me just a minute.” I walk around the car to pump the gas and he takes one step backwards, more surprised than anything else.
“Do you want me to pump your gas?” He asks, hesitantly, wondering what the hell is going on.
“No, that’s okay. I’m happy to pump it.” I answer.
“You know, ma’am. I’m sorry to just say five dollars like that. It’s just that no one never asked me before what I needed. I don’t know what to say.” He hesitates a minute more. “The truth is I need ten dollars, that’ll get me through just fine. I’m just trying to get by, you know what I mean?”
I know exactly what you mean, I think to myself, surveying in my mind all the little things it has taken me to get through this day, the last two and all the ones before that.
“Don’t worry,” I tell him. “I’m going to go inside and give you MORE than ten dollars–as soon as I finish pumping my gas.”
I don’t know why I do these things, but I think it has to have something to do with wanting to feel the common threads that tie us all together. You can do something nice for someone which is all fine and good, but when you can connect–human being to human being–that goes so much farther than ten bucks at the Sunoco ever will.
I go inside to get some cash but the ATM is broken. I dig deep in my jeans pocket–two fives, that’s it. I consider buying cigarettes with my card, hoping that will help take the edge off of any other temptations lurking, but I know all that is out of my hands.
I walk back out to find my friend. “I’m so sorry,” I say. “The ATM is broken and all I have is these two fives. That’s all I have, but you are welcome to have it.”
He takes it grateful and shocked. He asks me what my name is. I tell him. “Well, let me tell you, Jen, you are chosen of God.” He smiles, we shake hands and chat for a bit. He tells me his name is Vince.
“Vince,” I say. “I hope you can do something really good with that money. Something to be really proud of.” He says he’ll go get something to eat and then do his laundry, so he can feel all cleaned up trying to get a job tomorrow. I don’t know if it’s true, but neither one of us care.
We shake hands again and tell each other God bless you, God bless you again and again. I stand by the car as he walks down the street. I wave and wish him well.
Driving home the rest of the way, I feel a little bit more like myself. A little bit more human. More real. More alive, walking on this earth. A hundred people can tell me the Universe is rooting for me, but it counts so much more coming from an old guy on the streets of DC. He knows something good when he sees it.
And I take it in to the most tender part of my heart and hold it there close for the rest of the drive home.
What do you need to know today? I hope someone comes your way to help you know it in a powerful way.
January 14th, 2008 at 1:01 pm
Whenever a new post by jen lemen appears in my google reader I cannot continue my day until I read it….at least twice.
Hi jen. I’ll think about your question throughout the week, “What do you need to know today?” and add it’s partner: “What do you need to DO today?”
He’s right…the man you met last night…about you.
Oh, about the art on your studio floor. I don’t like the question, “Are you religious?” but the next time someone aks me, I’ll know how to answer.
January 14th, 2008 at 1:02 pm
amazing story. and that took courage too.
also, i clicked on something and it said the document moved, and i’m not sure what just happened.
i would like to know, today, that i still have powers to make things work. to understand things and move them forward. so if i could find a person to show me that today, that would be perfect.
January 14th, 2008 at 1:08 pm
What a gorgeous story. I forget sometimes to be human with other humans…we’re so programmed to play our parts without actually touching someone else’s soul.
January 14th, 2008 at 1:30 pm
Thank you for this poignant and beautiful post. In all of my work with shelters throughout my own city, I encountered more broken hearts than I could have imagined - and outside those walls, more cynics who said things like, “Those people can’t be helped” and “You’re wasting your time” than I care to again. I am encouraged and inspired by your kindness and your honesty in sharing this story. May you - and Vince - be blessed richly today.
January 14th, 2008 at 2:04 pm
You wrote “I hope someone comes your way to help you know it in a powerful way”…..Well Jen, you just did. Thanks.
January 14th, 2008 at 3:20 pm
Inspiring!
January 14th, 2008 at 4:44 pm
I always click over here hoping to have my heart warmed up a little bit, and you always do.
Your spirit moves me, Jen. Keep on doing what you do.
January 14th, 2008 at 4:49 pm
I used to work for a mobile soup kitchen that fed homeless people in London. I was much younger then, and much more fearful. I rarely found the courage to speak plainly and directly with the men who came to the van. I hope that now, a little older, a little less afraid, and inspired by your example, I’d be different. Thanks for sharing with us and the world, Jen.
January 14th, 2008 at 6:12 pm
I’ve been stopping by here for a while, reading, soaking it in, and not commenting…
After reading this post today, I just have to say, Jen Lemen, I really like you.
I love seeing the gracious, beautiful parts of people.
Thanks.
January 14th, 2008 at 6:15 pm
..and so says the Dalai Lama. ” Kindness is my religion”. That took compassion and guts Jen,and you are so right. We are all bound by a common thread. Sometimes we just have to look past appearances and prejudices to know it for sure.
January 14th, 2008 at 6:31 pm
poignant and beyond. the action and the conveying thereof. brava.
January 14th, 2008 at 6:35 pm
jen, always, always, always…you are *brilliant. thank you for shining bright, twinkling star. xoxo, gem
January 14th, 2008 at 7:19 pm
beautiful and brilliant (as in shiny!) i have a vince, too. his name is charlie and he calls me the starbucks lady
January 14th, 2008 at 8:43 pm
Once, when I got an unexpected raise, I went to a grocery store at lunch to buy myself a celebration treat. I saw a man begging outside (this is in a very affluent neighborhood of Marin County). I went inside and bought a bag full of groceries that I thought he could carry on his bike, that wouldn’t go bad right away, that might make it through a night or two. I put in some toothpaste and a toothbrush. And then I tucked $20 into the bag. When I came out, I gave it to him and said “This is for you.” I don’t know if he needed or wanted any of the stuff in the bag. I have often thought that what I should have done, was asked him what he really needed. I was too shy (I am often too shy).
Now I usually give to charity when I get a raise. But what I’d really like to do is give to someone directly. It hurts that I’m often way too shy to try and make that human connection. I’m going to try and work on that this year.
January 14th, 2008 at 8:50 pm
One of your best posts ever!!
January 14th, 2008 at 9:20 pm
Oh, Jen, as someone steeped in the ideals of Glide, I’m sure it’s no surprise that I deeply love this post. Not just the beautiful way you tell your tale, but the actions you took. And I really, REALLY love that this occurred on your way home from L.A. It reminds me yet again why I walked away from my previous life…and how I found true connection once I did.
P.S. But I do hope you had a good time in L.A.!
January 14th, 2008 at 10:24 pm
Thank you for helping him and for sharing your story.
January 14th, 2008 at 10:53 pm
Far too infrequently do I stop and ask people what they really need. And even less frequently do I go out of my way to meet their needs. You asked and you listened to his answer. As you said, what he did with the money doesn’t matter nearly as much as the fact that you listened and you answered. Peace to you on your journey. May you be blessed with all that you need on this night. And in the morning. And all life long. You are wonder-filled.
January 14th, 2008 at 11:57 pm
Dear Jen: I have to confess that I too have been a bit like Erin. Visiting here, reading you. From your sensible, truly thoughtful writing, I have been piecing you together but, until this post, I’d not felt compelled to comment. I do so now because your words have left me with a sense of rightness and because your experience spoke to me in a way I did not know I needed. It was YOUR post, that’s what I needed today.
January 14th, 2008 at 11:57 pm
I’ve been here a number of times to re-read this, jen…
finding a little bit more of what i need to know today with each and every visit.
thankful, i have a brave and beautiful friend helping to guide my heart and reminding me in powerful ways to stay hopefull.
love to you.
xoxoxoxox
January 15th, 2008 at 12:58 am
[…] One of the most lovely things I’ve read on the internet in a very long time. […]
January 15th, 2008 at 1:46 am
a friend recommended i read this post. just beautiful. thank you.
January 15th, 2008 at 2:13 am
My dear friend, Ellie sent me your link as she knew I would resonate (on many levels) to your post–and tis true.
Glad you shared your story and with such sweet poignance, too.
I have been blessed to have one or two similar opportunities with unexpected street angels.
Being from L.A. (and now, San Diego) I often keep a stash of Power Bars or crackers and peanut butter snacks in my car (except in summer) to have for some street-corner folks who are hungry. At least, that way I can do something and it doesn’t preclude me from also offering cash.
Way to go.
and thanks…
January 15th, 2008 at 8:35 am
Do you have any idea how many people told me how amazing you are over the last couple of years?
A lot. Not that you had to prove it, but this story…wow.
January 15th, 2008 at 10:50 am
Swooning with the beauty of this post. Also, I’m now inspired.
January 15th, 2008 at 11:39 am
Great post….it resonates well with me when there are others in this world that just want to do the greater good…I applaud all you do. So awesome. And to treat this man with humility, shows him how to act with integrity. May you be blessed.
January 15th, 2008 at 12:32 pm
What a touching post. Thank you for sharing and for being such a good person.
January 15th, 2008 at 1:01 pm
Wonderful, amazing story. (It strikes me even more (silly-ly enough) because I’m going to Dulles this afternoon.) It shouldn’t be so hard to slow down and open ourselves enough to really hear people, so that they can feel themselves being heard. Thank you for sharing… an illuminating glow.
January 15th, 2008 at 1:41 pm
Yeah. You made me cry. And now my husband (who is working from home today) is looking at me like I have two heads.
On my 31st birthday, I was downtown (Halifax) with my son (who was
and we passed a man with a sign. He was playing spoons. I told him that it was my birthday, and asked if he would play me a song. He did, big grin and all, and I put everything I had in my wallet in his little hat as I thanked him. I don’t know what possessed me. Gratitude for my life? I dunno…but I did it for me. Not for him. I wanted to buy a song for my birthday.
But my son took my hand (an eight year old, in broad daylight in the middle of a busy street!) and said “Mom, I really like you. You’re a good person.”
It had been a very hard year, and I was facing more of the same. Feeling like ‘a good person’ wasn’t on my list of priorities. Surviving was. But when he said that, I realized it was a gift I needed more than anything.
I love you for reminding me of that moment. Thank you.
January 15th, 2008 at 1:50 pm
Here from Kerflop. Wow.
We are getting ready to hit the road with 2 little ones, a van & a U-Haul. I too think I was meant to read this. I might have forgotten to put some money in my pocket (my safety rule is to not get out my wallet).
My husband has a policy of only giving to people who ask for a specific dollar amount which is surprisingly rare. I think it’s because he wants to be seen as a person instead of an ATM.
I think we will have a better trip than we would have if I hadn’t read this. Here’s hoping for some real connections.
January 15th, 2008 at 2:06 pm
thanks so much for this gorgeous story. what a statement it is on our society that we are shocked when someone really asks us what we need, what we really need. I wonder how many of us could honestly answer that question… peace to you.
January 15th, 2008 at 3:41 pm
Totally inspiring!!! I just love your stories. I just get so flubbed up when I think about connecting with strangers. My heart wants to but I don’t know what words to start with never mind continue with. Does all this magic just come to you???
January 16th, 2008 at 12:00 am
You do have a knack for getting to the heart of what really matters, what is needed in a critical moment. I needed to be reminded of my true self. You just helped.
January 16th, 2008 at 12:05 pm
Wow. I believe in karma, that what goes around comes around, and I think that the Universe is going to pay you back one day for helping that man. There’s a gas station near my house where a woman once asked me for some change, and I didn’t have any. Next time I see her, I’ll ask her what she really needs.
January 16th, 2008 at 12:53 pm
Jen, we met ever so briefly at BlogHer in Chicago (I came to say hello to Krystyn), and I could see this light shining in you even then. What a great story, a great reminder to be the change we want to see in this world.
January 16th, 2008 at 1:53 pm
Something similar happened to me in Chicago about 10 years ago. I was 21 and clueless. I was driving with a guy friend and we got lost in the hoodlums of Chicago. We were low on gas and my car tire was getting kind of flat, you can hear the bumpety sound it makes because it’s so uneven. Later on we found out there was a small puncture.
So we stopped by this gas station, getting ready to pump gas. I noticed the “store” is actually a payment kiosk type of thing, with metal bars all across and just a little window down below, like those you would see at the train station or movie theaters.
One guy came up to us, starts talking and asking for a couple of bucks. Within seconds, another guy came up also, and they started arguing over whose territory it is…
I went right in between the two tall giants (I’m 5′2) and putting one hand on each of them, saying something in the vicinity of, “Hey cut it out. It’s fine. I have a couple of bucks for each of you.” In the end they were OK, and even shook hands with each other.
My friend was shocked. And scared. And shaking when we got back into the car.
January 16th, 2008 at 2:39 pm
jen,
I have read many bits of advice and stories about what to do when asked for money, but something about this interaction you describe is just so heart-felt, simple and human that it just blew me away. I think so often that I overthink what I think what they think what to do what not to do…it is refreshing to be reminded…just be direct and have a human interaction.
Thank you for your inspirational site.
January 16th, 2008 at 9:10 pm
What a gorgeous story.
January 17th, 2008 at 9:37 am
I am not going to lie . . . This story had tears running down my face. It’s so lovely how much genuine kindness you bring to the blogosphere, Jen Lemen. Thank you.
January 17th, 2008 at 8:46 pm
I thought about you today when I was in a grocery store parking. I heard the repeated attempts of someone trying to start their car. I walked over and tapped on the window of the car. The young woman driver looked frustrated and eyed me suspiciously, which surprised me because it was the middle of the day, and our town is a fairly friendly place. I guess she decided a smiling woman carrying mushrooms and eggs couldn’t be too dangerous, so after a long pause she rolled her window down a few inches. Do you need help in some way? Can I give you a ride to the gas station? No, she didn’t have money for gas, but someone was on their way to help. She thanked me, though, and looked surprised saying it. I hope she’ll hold our town in higher esteem now.
January 17th, 2008 at 11:10 pm
Tonight, I am keeping this story next to my heart. It makes even my feet feel warm. I am better off now having found you in this ether.
January 18th, 2008 at 10:02 am
That is powerful. That is love played out in all its true form. Man I wish we’d all love a little bit more.
January 23rd, 2008 at 5:03 pm
[…] Or these two stories of connection from the ever wise Jen Lemen […]
January 24th, 2008 at 1:55 am
Thanks Jen, I needed to see this today.
There’s a guy who asked for money on the street (very specifically so he can be warm) today, and I didn’t give him enough. I will look for him tomorrow and do something more than what I did today.
February 10th, 2008 at 12:36 pm
That was dear.
March 24th, 2008 at 9:42 am
[…] I think about my friend inside, charming the socks off those Ethiopian boys, our brothers. I think about my own sisters and how much they love me, even when we fight. I think about Vince and all the other people I’ve met on the street who return my humanity to me, by treating me like family, when they have every right to reject me for being part of the rich white American middle class that too often regards privilege as a God-given right. […]
October 31st, 2008 at 2:43 pm
[…] soulful works that lift, inspire and move everyone they reach. Jen has donated one of her original “Kindness Is My Religion” art […]