THE OLD MAN IN THE PARK

I usually take my regular walking / jogging exercise in the park which is just a stone's throw away from where I live. I go there when the sun is ready to call it a day or just when it is about to go into oblivion.

In this park is a circular path for joggers, the middle of which is a playground for kids. It is a delight to see these cute little ones running around followed by their nannies and sometimes even being watched from the sides by barong clad security men. I also see well groomed dogs being walked around by their owners or uniformed maids.

The number of joggers increase after 5:00 p.m. when office workers join in before heading home.

One time while taking my usual walk around the circular path, listening and singing along to the tunes on my iPod, someone caught my attention.

He was an old man with shoulder length white hair, wearing faded but not tattered pants and shirt. On his feet were worn out slippers. His face was gentle although traces of hardship and fatigue were evident and obviously had seen better days. He was sitting in one of the benches holding two plastic bags. I suppose the small bag contained his food. I have no idea what was inside the big one. Every time I would pass by him I would take a look. After a while he put the big plastic bag on the bench and laid his head on it and after a time had fallen asleep. I was worried he might fall because the bench was quite narrow. After about an hour he woke up and just sat there.

I would see him almost everyday in the park. He has somewhat become a regular fixture there. Somehow I wanted to ask him if he had eaten or where he lives. I have this feeling that he might not have a home and probably just retreated to the park every time sleep catches up on him. Lots of questions had been going through my mind.

At times when I would not find him there, I would get this unusual feeling that something bad might have happened to him. I would be so happy the next day if I find him sitting once again in one of the benches there.

One time I bought a McDonald's meal and brought it with me to the park hoping to give it to him, but he did not show up on that particular day. I waited for a long time but no sight of him.

I wonder who this man is, where he came from and where he is this very moment. I do hope he is alright and has taken his meal.

Probably he could be somewhere there in the outskirts of town begging for his next meal or looking for a place to sleep, but wherever he is, I know I need not worry for God will surely provide and take care of him.

But why do I still feel burdensome?