Yesterday, I was approached by a homeless man who was dirty and sad, wearing a tattered shirt and no shoes. He asked for $20, and I gave him $50. “Thank you very much!” he replied, smiling. “Don’t you remember me?” he asked. It was Ross, a high school classmate.
Ross shared his story: “I joined a gang, smoked, drank, abandoned three pregnant women, stole, beat people, went to jail seven times, my kids don’t want me, I contemplated suicide twice, and now I’m begging for food and drink.” I felt deep sorrow for him. He said, “I already have food for today, take care of yourself!” and walked away.
Reflecting on the drive home, I wondered why our lives had turned out so differently despite similar childhood circumstances. I concluded it was because of my parents. I had the “worst” parents in the world—they gave me rules, schedules, and consequences. They made sure I stayed disciplined, unlike Ross, who had no such guidance.
Today, I thank God for my loving and strict parents. “Educate the child,” I insisted. That’s how we can change the world.
