Carlos

So lately I've been thinking about stopping my blogs in midsentence just to leave my extremely large and devoted audience on the edge of their seat. You know, kind of like all 300 of the "Left Behind" books did every single time! Or maybe a little bit like Lord of the Rings, I could write about 300 pages and then stop so all of you could go get some water and then come back and read the next 300, stop and let you guys take a nap and then finish out one of the most epic stories of all time. Unfortunately for all of you, I don't think I have enough material, time, or creativity to make up a story which has its own races, cultures, and languages. My final thought was to do something a little bit more like Harry Potter and write about each school year, conveniently wrapping everything up in the last week of school. It seems like no matter which method I pick, a movie will be made about my stories so I guess it's a win-win-win situation. Fortunately for all of you and unfortunately for me, I don't really see any of those happening so instead I'll just stick to posting random events a few times a week. (homework permitting)

Ok so this one hit me pretty hard when it happened. I was with two of my friends, Wade and Abby, and we were going to a church service on Thursday night. They had already made friends with a guy named Carlos who goes to the church and so we were going to walk with him there. I met him and he was an extremely nice man. He has pretty dark skin, short black hair, and a beard. His clothes were somewhat old and worn and he had a tiny, dark blue bag around his shoulder that looked old as well, but it was obvious that none of that mattered to him. I could tell from the moment I met him that he was full of life and the joy of the Lord. Unfortunately, he only spoke spanish so Abby had to translate most of what he said for me. I found out through different parts of the conversation that he used to be homeless, but then he got saved and has been able to turn his life around. As we were walking, I was really getting tired of not being able to talk directly to him so I let go of my pride and said the first thing that came to mind which was, "Me gusta tu camisa." Translation: I like your shirt. Now I know what all of you are thinking, whoa! Connor is amazing at spanish, and its true but back to the story...he was wearing a germany soccer shirt from at least 2 decades ago and it had the yellow, black, red stripes on it and it really was one of the coolest shirts I've seen in a while. Well he said gracias and then said a bunch of stuff really fast that I couldnt understand. Abby told me that he was saying that he wanted me to have his shirt. At first I just couldnt really believe this, I mean if he could see my closet he would definitely know that I had no need for another shirt, but that was just my American way of thinking. He went on to explain that since he had been homeless, he knew what it was like to have nothing, and everything he has, he sees as a gift from God and so he doesn't worry about it. This really just blew me away. I mean I have a ton of stuff! (packing up my dorm room this last semester gave me a not-so-subtle reminder of that) Anyways, I was able to resist long enough to change the subject.

We went to the church but apparently a large part of the congregation was at a youth/mission camp and so church was cancelled that night. As we were walking back home, Carlos just kept preaching to us and loving on us. He told us how we were meant to live lives fully submitted to God, and how God intended for us to be transparent with one another and that this is what creates true relationship. And then when we walked past a homeless man digging in the garbage, Carlos pulled some bread out of his raggedy blue bag and gave it to the homeless man. He told us how he has a real heart for the homeless since he was one. When we were about a block away from our house, Carlos ran into an old friend that he hadn't talked to in 2 years. Thankfully this friend could speak english. He asked me if I was from Uruguay or Argentina. I said no, but it was quite a compliment. I found out that he thought so because I look Italian and there are a lot of Italian immigrants in Uruguay and Argentina. (Thanks for the italian blood grandma, I'm proud.) For those of you who don't know, my grandma came to America on a boat form Italy when she was a little girl and had to learn the language when she got here. Pretty cool story, but thats another blog. Anyways, back to Carlos, he was so friendly with everyone, including this man that he hadn't seen in 2 years. As we got to the house, he respectfully asked Abby to turn around and then took off his shirt and gave it to me. I tried to tell him no, but he wouldnt listen. He walked home shirtless that day, while I added another shirt to my already full closet.

Like I said at the start, this really hit me. It got me thinking, why do I value my possessions so much when I have so many of them? I could probably lose 10 shirts and not even notice, but I'm not giving stuff away when people say they like it or even when I see people need it sometimes. Well my first plan of action is to give Carlos this Barcelona soccer jersey I have, and then from there who knows, but I do know that I'll be much more ready to give the next time I see a need, and I have a constant reminder sitting in my closet from now on.