What Was I Thinking?

     I couldn't sleep.  Finally at 4:15 am I knew I had to get up and thought I could get a coffee at the shop on the fifth floor and maybe get a jump start on my awaiting transcripts.  I order my coffee, and as I am milling about, discovering all of the goodies the coffee shop has to offer, a young man comes in, I'm guessing 25 or 26, and he orders coffee.  I am trying not to listen, but it's quiet.  It is 4:15 am, remember!  He shares with the Barista that he has a "double" today, which he explains is 16 hours of work, so he needs the cup of coffee to get and keep him going!   He then explains his girlfriend isn't happy because he is working the double.  I remarked, "Well work is important" and he says, "Yeah, I have to bring home money!"
     I smile and say, "Good for you!"  I am thinking I am being encouraging, affirming, at least that's my intent.  As I am then leaving the coffee shop, he goes on to say this is only one of the three -- yes three -- jobs he holds down.  I am headed to the elevator when what comes over me first is an overwhelming sense of relief that I am not him, that I'm lucky I have a job that pays well enough that I don't need two others.  Then comes the feeling of empathy about how tough that must be for him, and then an ah-ha moment that I should NEVER complain about a job, my job, any job again!!
    I'm in the elevator, headed to the 18th floor, thinking about this young man, still, and wondering what his job is.  Is he working in the hotel, or is he just passing through to get coffee?  Then it hits me like a lead balloon:  What was I thinking?  Why didn't I offer to pay for his coffee?   I felt awful, ashamed, that I was so wrapped up in feelings of what I am embarrassed to say was feeling sorry for him that I didn't see for forest for the trees.
    I all too well know, from working with many folks with different physical and mental challenges over the years, that they don't want our pity.   They command simply our respect and consideration.  Well, maybe I would have demonstrated "pity" if I had offered to buy his coffee, but in my heart I felt ashamed that I didn't try.
     Why does it take such a slap in the face for us to feel grateful and blessed for what we have??  As I am there in my warm hotel room drinking my Starbucks, he was heading to a 16-hour shift at a job that most likely paid little more than minimum wage.
     I made a promise to myself in the elevator this morning, at 4:15.  I need to be "more present" "more aware" of those in my space and be more in tune with what's going on around me.  Since I realize I will never see this young man again, I do the only thing I can... I pray for him several times throughout that day and in the days that followed.  I hope God has shown him a path of hope and of peace in his life.  Pope Francis said, "Help one another.  This is what Jesus teaches us.  This is what I do, and I do it with my heart."