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Good morning.
I moved house a year and a half ago, and there are still things emerging from boxes and drawers that haven’t been properly unpacked.  
Just recently, when looking through some papers, I came across a Canadian two-dollar bill.  I have an idea how long I’ve had it, because it’s 20 years since the Bank of Canada stopped printing that note.
I’ve kept it because it was given to me by a total stranger, someone who had reason to hang on to it.  He was homeless, living or sheltering in Toronto airport.  I was stranded there by a missed connection.  Losing my wallet was the last in a series of mishaps that left me fighting back tears as I sat, trying to figure out what to do next.
The man came up to me and asked for spare change, and then realized that I was in distress.   He reached into his coat pocket, and handed me the note – two dollars that he said I needed more than him at that moment.  In the middle of what I thought was the worst moment of my life, a compassionate gesture from someone who had probably not experienced much compassion in his recent life.
I think about him often - and his generosity.  I’ve tried to respond in kind when confronted with similar situations.  I didn’t ask his name, but in my mind, I call him John.  Two dollar bills are rarely seen in circulation now, while the number of homeless people in our communities, sadly, continues to grow.  On my way to work recently, I saw a man searching for -  and finding - something to eat in a bin.  He also has a name.
Lord God, you have created us and called us by name.  Help us to remember that we are all part of the human family, precious to you and able to give as well as receive, compassion.  Amen