Cancer feels no pity nor sorrow or even sympathy for the lives it decides to sideswipe.  It does not baby you or give you a warm shoulder to lean on when times are tough.  It will not give you charity or handouts of any way, shape, or form...Nope cancer is cancer. 

I drive the same route from work, day in and day out and I see the same buildings, traffic lights, restaurants, car repair shops, gas stations, and so forth everyday.  When my day ends, I step into my car and head towards that same route aware that around the next corner there will be a homeless man or two, hands extended asking for my change.  My windows down, sunglasses on, and music a blaring a look straight into their eyes as if I am trying to dive into their soul...then I drive by my eyes locked to theirs without handing them a thing. 

Its funny, I have always said I would never give hand outs to those on the street, heck, if anything they needed a job application.  Like cancer, I never felt sorrow or pity for the lives that they live.  It is not because I do not care about my fellow man, yet it is because I feel that my fellow man should care about himself...So I just drive on by eyes locked to theirs.

However, yesterday was different.  I saw a man whom I've never seen on the curb and at a moment I felt different.  He was an old, gray haired, hunch back man with a worn scrunched up face.  His closes were tattered and the yellow sign he held was faded beyond legibility.  My eyes locked to his, I removed my sunglasses to get a better look or understanding as to whom this guy was.  He could hardly hold himself up and at first, I assumed he was drunk.  He took a step forward and with every movement of his worn body, he shook.  I thought to myself...this guy is different. 

For some odd reason he forced a cancer flash back that put me in his shoes on that very curb.  Now why I related having cancer to an old homeless man on a curb I do not know.  Nevertheless, I do know that it made me think.  I thought about how cruel cancer is to others.  I thought about its remorseless character and in a moment, I reached...

Now maybe it was because you could see the years this man lived purely in his image.  Maybe it was because his faded sign was proof that he had given up hope.  Or maybe it was the extreme heat that forced me to sweat even in my air-conditioned car.  What ever is was, something was different.  My hand scooped up every nickel, dime, and penny I had in my coin rack.  The light turned green and I extended my hand towards his and said, "here brother".  He replied, "Thanks" in a scratchy voice.  I smiled as I drove off thanking cancer for showing me that there is always a first for everything.  

Preston