Why did I do that?

Crossing Market Street today, I saw a man sitting at the corner of the Macy's Building holding a cardboard sign. 

"Homeless" it read, "Hungry. Any food or WATER will help. GOD BLESS." The man sitting behind it was beastly at best. He clearly hadn't shaven in weeks, donned a scruffy gray sweatshirt and kept trying to pull down the sleeves to keep warm.

The bitter breeze made me shiver after only a few minutes of being outside. I pulled my warm faux-leather jacked from Express in King of Prussia a little tighter around my waist and tucked in my company issued thick black hoodie so my Blackberry earbuds wouldn't fall out and I could listen to my Twit.tv podcast without interruption.

"That man must be freezing" I thought as I continued toward my office. How can a man exist so cold?

"I should do something." For a few minutes, I had entertained the idea of peeling off my homemade scarf and giving it to the man, but I had emotional attachment to that scarf.

Passing the Starbucks at 13th and Chestnut, I quickly ducked inside and ordered a hot coffee and apple fritter. The longer I waited, the more anxious I became and the more I wanted to just continue on my way to the office. But I couldn't leave, or rather, I didn't leave. I was going to do a good deed.

Coffee and pastry in hand, I marched back up the street toward the man. For a moment, my heart sank when I didn't see him sitting at the corner where he was before. Overwhelmed with personal embarrassment, I hesitated. Is he ok? Did someone hurt him?

Before I knew it, I found myself worrying about someone I didn't even know. Someone I hadn't even gotten a clear glimpse of. And someone I was officially more attached to than some lovers from my past.

I rounded the corner and breathed a sigh of relief when I saw him sitting at the edge of the building, tugging his sleeves down to keep warm.

I bent down and handed him the pastry bag and cup of hot coffee.

"Oh, thank you m'am. God bless you, m'am!"

I smiled tenderly to the man, "I'm an atheist."