Yesterday, as I was doing my early morning walk, I noticed a man pushing his bicycle.

When I got to the narrow bridge he was sitting there on the pavement. His face was red and sweaty and it looked like he was having a hard time breathing. It’s not an exaggeration to say he looked like he was in agony.

I asked if his bike broke down.

He said the bike had two flat tires and needed two new inner tubes as well as some mechanic work.

“But it’s a good bike,” he said “and someone gave it to me for nothing. All I have to do is get it to Midway Avenue.”

He looked like he couldn’t take another step and Midway was about two miles away.

He said his name was Stanley and then he shared the incredible part of his story. He had just walked from a campground for the homeless, a place that’s more than six miles from the bridge when exhaustion forced him to stop to rest.

Stanley admitted he was homeless. He said he had a good job as a machinist until he got epilepsy.

“I kept passing out and having seizures so I lost my job and my driver’s license,” he said.

He had no insurance, no job, no car and no hope.

With temperatures over 90 degrees every day it’s difficult to be outside, much less to walk great distances. I could see why that old bike would be a godsend for Stanley.

What I couldn’t see was how Stanley could continue walking so far. He had no water and I’ll tell you this: When I looked into his eyes I saw the suffering that marks his life.

The only time I saw agony like that was when I watched an enactment of the crucifixion of Jesus.

I gave Stanley the small bottle of Gatorade I had along with money for a meal. He gulped down the Gatorade in one swallow.

When I gave him the money he said, “Are you sure?” I don’t think he was used to having people help.

We were too far from a store and too far from my house and my car. My hip was already sore from my walk and I didn’t think I could get home quickly for my car.

I did what I could on the spot but I was keenly aware that it was too little.

Did you ever find yourself in a situation like that when you couldn’t figure out a better solution on the spot?

I should have told Stanley to wait there while I walked home to get my car. I might have been able to get the bike in the back of the car.

Here’s my question for you. If you came upon Stanley in the situation I described, what would you do?

Most people might do nothing. I know Stanley must have encountered others along the long way he had walked. One man pushing a bike on a highway certainly looked like he had a problem.

Some think the homeless are in their situation because they made wrong choices or because they are druggies.

I asked Stanley if he ever went for help and he said St. Vincent de Paul gave him a sleeping blanket and food.

I belong to that organization. It’s my favorite charity and I make it a priority to contribute each month.

But I know it’s easy to write a check. The real work is done by the volunteers who work each day to make life better for those who come for help. They might not solve every problem but they do help so many of our needy.

Did God put Stanley in my path to tell me I should be doing more to help the poor and needy?

I keep promising St. Vincent’s I will be a volunteer as soon as my health issues are solved. I promised then I will be an interviewer.

But to tell the truth, I’m not sure I will be good at it. Sure, I can interview, I’ve been doing it for decades. But I think I will have a hard time getting people like Stanley out of my mind.

The president of St. Vincent de Paul said he sometimes runs into the same problem.

He once interviewed a young mother with two children who were forced to live in the woods. He promised to try to find housing for her.

That night, a torrential storm flooded our area. The St. Vincent de Paul president couldn’t stop worrying about the mother and children. He and his wife left their home in the storm to walk through the woods, searching for the family. It took two days to find them.

Sometimes we can’t get the poor out of our mind.

I’ve heard some dismiss the poor by saying they have the same chance as everyone else. One “trust-fund recipient” heatedly told me that when I was trying to get him to donate. He refused.

Some do what they can.

Others close their eyes.

Where do you fall?

Contact Pattie Mihalik at newsgirl@comcast.net.