A Change of Heart

I've been craving a greasy, McDonald's double cheeseburger ever since the very first day I started this bloody gluten-free diet three months ago. Have I been successful? I think so. Though the pounds have not melted off like glaciers basking in the Mississippi sunshine, the weight has certainly not revisited my body. I'm losing it slowly, and that's the way I intend it to always be as long as I am to not eat gluten. So did I pass up the opportunity to shove a delectable, greasy double cheeseburger into my mouth? Yes and no. I think perhaps an evil force that dwelled inside some parallel universe told me to buy those two burgers; however, I am glad that it did. You see, I wasn't the only person craving those burgers.

I made the purchase and skipped out the door in a gleeful manner (Okay, I really didn't skip. Instead, I just walked at a fast pace for fear of seeing someone I know catch me ruining my diet after all the weight loss bragging I've been doing). As I was halfway to my moderate car, a black Dodge Neon, I saw the saddest sight; a scruffy, sight-for-sore-eyed man who was aged beyond his years. He could have been a Marine veteran, or someone who has lost his home like many people are experiencing during this difficult time. He may have been someone's father, and at one time, was someone's son. Or perhaps he was an angel who was sent from heaven to test my kindness. Above all, he was a man who was obviously hot in this summertime heat, hungry, homeless, and very alone. Feeling dreadful about seeing this guy, my heart tugged at my conscience and said with a sigh; guess you don't need those burgers after all, Jena McFatty. All saliva activating in my mouth came to an abrupt halt.

I approached the vagrant cautiously while trying to maintain a positive attitude. I didn't want him to feel embarrassed around the people on the street. I simply greeted him and asked if he wanted some lunch. He was taken aback and asked, you don't want it? Of course I didn't. I handed him the paper sac that contained those steamy, hot burgers that would have put at least an extra undesirable inch on both my thighs. He blessed me and I just gave him a nod and walked back to my modest, little car. As I drove away and looked to see what he was doing, he had already had a huge bite of burger in his mouth. Another trash is another man's treasure they say. Yet, that old man appeared to have had gold in his hands.

If I could have done more, I wish I could have. He'll never know what a huge favor he did for me. I don't think I'll be craving a double cheeseburger, or any other kind of burger for that matter, for a very long time. Maybe we'll meet again or maybe not. Regardless, I really hope upon all hope that he soon finds his way, wherever or whenever that may be. If this was a sign from above, then they've done quite well in helping me know the difference between "want" and "need".