to the little boy with peanuts

little boy with peanuts, 

my sincerest apologies, buddy, I never got your name. You walked into McDonalds, where Abby and I were sitting and doing nothing too productive besides eating ice cream. I could tell you seemed nervous-it must have taken you a minute to muster up the courage to approach our table. I must say, your bravery is so admirable to me. With soft steps you made your way over to the two foreign girls in the corner. Mentally you practiced your english so that when you made your pitch, you would speak with clarity and precision. You readjusted the little green basket that your were carrying, the one that matched your shirt, and in a whisper, you spoke to me. You said, “Do you want to buy some peanuts?” And without a second thought, and with the saddest excuse of a smile ever, I looked back at you and quickly said “no.” 

I saw your face that was once filled with timid confidence quickly morph into a face filled with defeat. As if embarrassed, you dropped your head, secured your basket and quickly walked out of the restaurant. You shouldn’t be embarrassed, friend, I should. 

You walked down the steps and crossed the street, in search of the next person to offer your peanuts to. In search of the person that will see you and choose you, and I’m sorry that wasn’t me. 

I write you this letter, little buddy, because I have to apologize to you. I weep as I think of our interaction-I was in the wrong. I didn’t take the time to stop and see you. I didn’t take the time or the effort to look at your through eyes have been redeemed, instead I looked at you as if you were a pesky salesman. But thats not who you are, friend, you are my brother. You are a son of the King, and that makes you royalty. You are just a little boy. And although I don’t know your story, I can imagine life hasn’t been easy if you have to sell peanuts to strangers on a Friday night. Why didn’t I stop and ask you for your name? Why didn’t I buy a little pack of peanuts? Why didn’t I ask you if you were hungry? You are special, you are chosen, and you are loved. And I’m sorry I didn’t treat you as if any of those were true. 

The hope you had stored up as you prepared to approach my table must have been replaced with fear as you left my area and tried to find someone new. I’m sorry I was a catalyst in that shift of emotion. You too have sparked a change of emotion in me. You see, when you so sweetly offered me a pack of peanuts, I was consumed by selfishness. I was eating my ice cream, I was happy without your interruption. But as you walked away, your solemn face sparked the feeling of guilt within me. I felt guilty for the way I treated you and for the things I left unsaid. As you turned the corner and left my sight, I knew I had to find you. I had to pursue you in the way that I was pursued. So we chased after you, buddy. You couldn’t know this, but when went up and down a few blocks, we looked on both sides of the street, we had to find you. My guilt quickly turned into compassion, and I had to find you. Not for the peanuts, which of course I would have bought, but so I could tell you how special you were. 

I didn’t find you, my friend, but I pray that I will see you again soon. I am praying for you-for your family, for your confidence, for your future. You are brave, and you are important. Even if I never see you again, I need you to know that you have taught me a huge lesson. One about selfishness and loving others. I promise you that from here on out I will stop and take the time to see the people I meet. The people I pass, those that smile at me, those that take the time to speak to me. For your sake, little buddy, I will see them. And something tells me that when I take the time to see them, I will not only see the face of God, but I will see your face as well.

until I see you again,

-j