At the Farmer’s Market in Santa Monica, a panhandler stood tall wearing a big smile, pink baseball cap and a sign asking for money. I passed her by. There were so many homeless on the street that day; I was beginning to feel overwhelmed. I paused at the vegetable stand nearby and watched her from the corner of my eye, fascinated by her steady and expansive smile. I struggled with guilt as I tried to locate an honest yes or no for this one asking.

Two days later, I noticed a familiar face checking into the hostel I was staying at. I approached her and asked what she was up to on this sunny day. I didn’t realize it was the same woman I saw at the market. She said, “I’m taking the day off from panhandling. I got a good tip yesterday and am going down to the pier. My friend plays great music there. Do you want to come?” I didn’t see why not.

We went our separate ways and later that morning I was walking over the bridge to the pier and we saw each other at the same time. She waved me down. I felt some sense of excitement and appreciation for the encounter that was about to happen.

My newfound friend, the homeless woman weathered by years in the sun, the one I passed by earlier, offered to buy me lunch. How can words express the level of generosity and kindness I was experiencing from this “stranger?”

A woman had given her $40 the day before for being such a good listener and simply wanted to help her out. Now, the one with apparently so little is willing to share her good fortune with another.

I wanted to sit in the receiving, to see how it would feel to open my heart to this gift rather than push it away and insist otherwise so I accepted the offer.

I asked if I could ask her questions about her life. She was open and seemed to have nothing to hide. She shared how she landed on the streets and how she kept herself safe. I asked her if she felt her needs had been met and if she felt the universe was kind. Without hesitation, she said she always felt supported and that God was good.

I could only imagine the level of trust one needs to still remain joyful, gracious and kind in the face of living hand to mouth. It seems she is living beautifully through the day to day fears of impending lack, poverty, safety and security that so many of us hold with such clenched fists even while we have so, so much.

In the midst of our conversation, she offered some advice. “Cherish your home and all that you have. Life is not about money; it’s all about love and helping people.”

My new friend shared that many people enjoy her company because she is a good listener and has “sane things to share”. I would agree.

We said a sweet goodbye (it was for me anyway!) and I was very touched. Later that day I realized I would love to make her dinner. I searched for her and found her at the farmer’s market again in the same place, back to work. She said she already had plans. It felt right to return her generous gesture. She received my donation graciously.

The stranger on the street modeled the beauty available in simple living; trusting this kind universe, asking for what you need, and receiving and giving kindness. Perhaps living the simple life is truly internal and has nothing to do with circumstance.