BACK POOR 3'?m1f Monologue: discipleship, charity, giving (enters wearing overcoat and long wool scarf) I'm... I'm a little embarrassed to tell you this. I almost decided not to come. But after I thought about it for awhile, I decided that you need to hear this story. It was a cold and windy night. The strong north wind blew the falling snow and made it feel like my skin was being sand blasted. As I walked along the sidewalk, I buttoned the top button of my overcoat and wrapped my scarf around my neck to keep the snow out. (demonstrates) When I walked to the corner I saw a middle-aged man with a two-weeks growth of beard sitting on the bus bench. He was hugging himself trying to keep warm. What drew my attention to him were his clothes. He was wearing a suit. I noticed his suit because it was identical to the Brooks-Brothers suit my dad wore to a wedding earlier that day. He wasn't wearing an overcoat, just this suit. No tie, no socks, just a dirty white tee-shirt and this filthy, wrinkled Brooks-Brother's suit that was so dirty and greasy that it shined in the street light overhead. While I was trying to figure out whether this man was a former executive who was down on his luck or a rag picker who made a lucky find, this man picked up some newspapers from the bench beside him, folded them lengthwise, then wrapped them around his neck to keep out the cold. Then he crossed his arms again, bowed his head and huddled against the bench. It looked like the bench was going to be his bed for the night. Poor guy. I THOUGHT about helping him. But I couldn't afford to put him up at a hotel. The hotels in the area all cost at least a hundred dollars per night. I thought about taking him into the nearby department store to buy him some warm clothes. But he would need warm socks, long underwear, an overcoat, mittens and a wool scarf. I couldn't afford all that! Poor guy. I resigned myself to the fact that I might be one of the last people to see this pitiful guy alive. Poor guy. As I was walking past him, regretting that there was nothing I could do for him, a little girl walked up from behind me. She couldn't have been more than six or seven years old. She unwound the bright red wool scarf from around her neck (demonstrates) and hung it over the neck of the bum. Then, as she walked away, she said, (imitates) "May God bless you." The man smiled and said, (imitates) "He just did." (pause) That little girl shamed me. She reminded me that I had allowed myself to be so overwhelmed by the man's many needs, that I talked myself into doing nothing at all. She saw a need that she could do something about and she did something about it. People, take a lesson from that little girl. We can't do EVERYTHING for the poor. But we CAN do SOMETHING! ©2013 Bob Snook. Conditions for use: Do not sell any part of this script, even if you rewrite it. Pay no royalties, even if you make money from performances. You may reproduce and distribute this script freely, but all copies must contain this copyright statement. http://www.bobsnook.org email: [email protected] BACK |