I turned the corner of an urban street and stopped abruptly. A massively large man was lying in the ally and another man, thin as a rod, was holding both of the larger man's hands and trying to pull him back onto his feet. The small man exerted so much effort that he nearly fell backwards. Both men looked like they had been living on the street for months. After several valiant tries the small man gave up and walked away.

There were two other men, smartly dressed in trendy work clothes and sporting leather briefcases. They stood absolutely still, staring at the man in the alley. I stepped between them and began a conversation.

"We got to get him out of the alley. He's going to get hit by a car."

"Do you think he's drunk? Look at him, he's bleeding."

"He's something alright…that other guy couldn't lift him up."

"We should call the cops or an ambulance or something like that…"

"Yeah, yeah…I'll do it."

The clean-cut 30 year olds didn't want to touch the man. And I could understand. This guy was staggering drunk and his knee was scraped open. Fresh blood was trickling out. He was talking incoherently and rolling on his back in the middle of a much-used alley. My two professionals quickly walked into the nearest store.

I began to walk towards the alley. The man rocked back and forth until he was able to get on his hands and knees. After that, on his third attempt, he was able to stand up. He weaved around precariously as if something was trying to knock him over and for a brief moment I considered the possibility that he might fall on me. I stepped back.

He looked at my dog and pitched to the right, "Aww…what you doin' wit dat mean dog?"

"Oh he's not mean. He's nice."

"Aww…" He leaned to the left and reeled for about three steps.

And I smiled at him. I thought to myself. What a lame thing to do. As if it will help. But I desperately wanted him to know that I saw his dignity…somewhere under the skin of this drunk that staggered in front of me.

He smiled back…and walked down the alley, swaying violently with each step. And then he was gone. Turned a corner and I never saw him again.

Why did Christ come? For a man who fell down drunk in an alley. For two young professionals caught between a world of the status quo and simple human kindness. For a woman who didn't know what to do but to smile. For us.

* all names and identifying details have been changed to protect anonymity. © Amy Beth Augustin Barlow 2003