Richard.

There is a park in Austin that we frequent usually twice a week. It's near S's school, so we either head there if we have time to kill before picking her up, or - if it's a rare day where we're not speeding off to meet P at the bus - we head there afterwards, eager to play out some of that midday energy and try like hell to offset the inevitable 3-5pm blahs.

It's a beautiful park and it has a pretty regular crowd, which I always like. It's nice to let S run off onto the playscape with a little girl her age we've come to know, and for me to sit down on the gravel with A to dig in the pebbles and recognize other mommies and babies. I love that about Austin. It's a major metropolitan city, and yet, it lives like a small-ish town.

Another regular at the park is a homeless man, who sits on the same spot of the same bench day in and day out. In fact, I've never not seen him there, even when just driving by to get S from her school. It doesn't matter the weather or how inclement it may be, the season, or anything else. He's always there.

Here's the part where I admit that, at first, I was put off by his presence. He sits facing away from the main playground towards the open field and basketball courts, but still, I can openly admit that there is something slightly menacing about a homeless man hanging about a place where children come and go, is there not? But just the same, he has never done anything to make me uncomfortable in the past few months since we've made our visits regular, and, with the onset of freezing weather in Austin, I feel terrible for him. Sure, he's bundled up in his coat (for which I am eternally thankful - no one should have to be outside and cold), but still, it's cold out there, and I can also admit to my concern for his well-being extending far beyond the confines of the park, and to the wee hours of the night or early morning, when I'm up for no particular reason and busying myself with worry.

It should be said that Austin has a large homeless population. It is one of the only complains (aside from traffic) that I heard lodged against Austin on a regular basis, and I can understand why. Aside from the panhandlers you come across at major intersections, homelessness is worrisome because it's scary. It can happen to anyone, given either a string of bad decisions or just plain an unfortunate turn of events. It makes people uncomfortable, and questions those basic luxuries we feel we have a right to. You'd think that having lived her for ten years, I'd be a cynic to the homeless population, more annoyed or used to their presence than anything. But thankfully, I have a man in my life who's a certified bleeding heart, and keeps me compassionate against all odds. D is the kind of guy who - when everyone else accuses them of asking for money for booze or whatever other vice they're naturally assumed to have had to land them in their position in the first place - assumes the best in people, and always gives them money or food or whatever he has to part with. I LOVE this about him. I'm also a bit of a bleeding heart, and always have been. I was that child who felt the pain of the world growing up, and I haven't outgrown it, so Ava stands no chance at becoming an unsympathetic a-hole of a human being. Thank God.

Anyhow, the point of the story is this: While all the other families at the park yesterday cautiously avoided making contact with him, I talked to the man at the park yesterday, albeit briefly. I asked him if he was hungry, which seemed to catch him off guard, and he said that he was "ok".

"Are you sure?" I asked. "I have plenty of snacks in my bag. I'd be glad to share."

What he said then, though, later made me cry.

"I wouldn't want to take anything away from your baby, ma'am."

I assured him that he wouldn't be taking anything from her, and that we were about to head home where she could have a snack if she was hungry. He finally accepted, and before we left the park, he had eaten all four snacks I had given him, clearly not as "ok" as he had stated.

I also managed to get his name. I wondered how long it had been since he had spoken with someone, or had someone even ask him for it, and it seems so much more humanizing to know someone's name, and have someone know yours, doesn't it?

I think next time we go we'll take him a hamburger :) And I sincerely hope, above all else, that Ava grows up to be the kind of person who will feed the hungry, and give back to those who aren't as fortunate.

What are ways that you instill in your children the values that are important to you?