Frank

The other day I met a man while waiting for the bus. I was on my way to meet Jon at the University after picking up a couple movies, and I had cinnamon buns in my bag.

There are a lot of people who ask for money around Osborne village, and I wondered before leaving the house if someone would approach me. I felt that I really could not tell a person I couldn't give them anything when I had 6 huge cinnamon buns on me. It was really on my mind, so before I left the house, I told God that I was open to giving, or open to whatever.

As I was waiting at the bus stop, a wasp started coming at me. Every time I moved my bag, it would follow, so I ended up moving beside this man. He took off his hat and tried killing it for me, and we began talking about wasps; how I'd never been stung and how he had.

I finally killed the wasp by whacking it with a dvd case/stomping on it, and we continued talking. There was a pause in our conversation, and he said, "You know, I wish I had done things differently in my life." It was obvious he wanted to talk, so I asked him why he felt that way.

We proceeded to talk while we waited, and ended up going on the same bus. I listened to this man and we got off the same stop. When it was time to go our separate ways, I he thanked me for the chat, and I told him that maybe we'd see each other again someday on Osborne. He said he hoped so.

As I walked away, I realized I had not gotten his name. I have met people in the past that have made an impact on me and I (I think) on them, and not gotten their names. It's nice to have a name to a face or memory. I turned around and asked him his name and introduced myself. We shook hands, his face lit up, and he kept repeating my name. It was really special. His name is Frank.

God did end up using those cinnamon buns...and me.