I first saw him on the other side of the street. His clothes were worn and tattered, and he seemed to mumble to himself as he searched through the trash can on the corner, hoping to find something from the night before. Tourists on Beale Street were wasteful, but it was to his advantage. You never knew what you mind find in the trash bins of Beale Street. Unfortunately, it seemed city workers were out earlier than the old man. In the early morning hours, few tourists were around to witness the scene. The few who did seemed to turn their heads the other way.

He crossed the street heading in my direction, hoping to find bins not so empty. I could hear him talking softly to himself now, although I couldn’t make out all the words. I watched him and made my way so I could intercept him before he reached the next block.

"Sir," … he kept walking. "Sir," I said again a little more loudly. He stopped; puzzled by hearing someone call him ‘sir’ I’m sure. "Here’s some money. Go get you something to eat," I said as I handed him a ten dollar bill.

"How did you know I was hungry?" he asked in amazement.

"I was watching you go through that trash can, and the Lord laid it on my heart to give you some money."

He thanked me and we struck up a conversation about life, the blues, and the Lord. He was on old man now, and he had known good in life and the bad. He had come to Memphis as a musician, but got caught, as so many, in the alcohol, women, and drugs. Now he was an old man, toothless, and homeless, carrying everything he owned in the world in a bag. Although I don’t remember our discussion in detail, I do remember the Spirit of God being in the middle. He was so thankful that someone just took a moment to talk to him, and my spirit soared.

As our discussion came to an end, he said, "I want to give you something." I declined; I couldn’t take anything from him when I had so much and he so little. Yet he persisted. He took a beat-up watch off his wrist. The face was cracked. He had probably found it discarded somewhere. I took the watch and prayed with him.

The encounter blessed me more than I can express with mere words. When we listen to the Spirit within us and love as God loves, we receive the greatest blessing of all knowing we have been an instrument of the Lord. We don’t know who we might bless by just listening … by sharing a testimony … by praying for someone else.

I don’t know what happened to the old man. I don’t even know his name. But I still have the watch. Every time I look at it I hold the man up in prayer. I pray I gave him words of hope and faith. Most of all, I pray I see him on the streets of heaven someday so I can thank him for my watch – my reminder to watch for those who God puts in my path to help on the way.