At Burger King with friends

I was at Burger King with two friends. BK has this promo that if you upsize your drink and fries or onion rings, you get a free burger. That's a little too much for my appetite, grease and cholesterol and all, and here I am trying to cut down. I am sure I'd be unable to finish my X-tra Long American Chicken Sandwich with free Whopper Jr.

I'm not a huge fan of Burger King's foods, but there's free wi-fi, movie (right now it's Harry Potter 4: Goblet of Fire), massage, even shoeshine. The crew are friendly, too. I've been here one time too often and they smile with familiarity. "There's the writer," they seem to say. They already know I prefer onion rings to French fries and write for hours in my notebook.

Halfway through the meal and some writing, Jojo said, "Don't look now, but there's a street kid knocking at the glass. Look away." We were seated near the doors where the ramp for the disabled goes up and around the store. Beside that is the drive-through.

Jeanette quietly reached out for her half-eaten sandwich, wrapped it up in the wax paper, and with the back of her hand, pushed the glass door slightly open enough for one little grimy hand to reach for it.

"It's against the law to give coins to these kids," Jojo kindly advised.

"It's a sandwich. I've no coins to spare," Jeanette laughed. "Besides, I'm really full."

"The point is, we shouldn't encourage them. They hang around here until the guard shoos them away. Where are the parents? They should be doing something. That's why the government dissuades us from giving alms. It encourages the wrong things."

I thought Jojo must be right. We were discussing virgin coconut oil on the way here and I was eager to go back to the discussion.

"Until the government or anyone gets these kids off the streets into proper homes, I'll share what I can spare."

"Hindi naman mauubos yang mga `yan, eh."

I didn't want to join the argument. But as I looked, the young boy unwrapped the sandwich like it's the highlight of his day. He caught me looking. I couldn't hear from inside but he said, "Salamat po." I pried my eyes away and looked at the E. Rodriguez Ave. traffic outside. The weather was bleak--a welcome break from months of dry heat.

Two students walked by and gave their baon pizza to the boy. Then another street kid came. They shared the loot. I noticed both of them wore over-sized T-shirts that said "Like Mike for Mayor." Another customer from Burger King stood up and gave the kids a plastic cup of water each. The kids sat along the ramp in an instant picnic. They carried plastic bags filled with empty C2 Tea bottles. The guard found them and shooed them away. They quickly gathered their plastic bottles and food and left.

I wish I took Jojo's advice and looked away. But why should I? I'm no better person than those boys. They are, like me, human beings. I am, like them, a sinner in need of a Savior. The guard was only doing his job. If God has a purpose for everyone on this earth, what He have in mind for these children?

Later, the boy came up again to our glass again and begged for my large Coke. I didn't bother to look away. I took my last sip of Coke. The boy can have the rest. The manager came out and chased him away.

The ramp was empty afterward, devoid of interesting life to watch.