Zach Banker is my hero
When I really think about it, I mean really really think about it, the most powerful image of Christ's love that I've ever seen firsthand came from the hands of Zach Banker. It happened in the pouring rain on the streets of Indianapolis. It was probably 8 in the morning and we were tired. We (Cody and Myself) had only gotten a few hours sleep since arriving in town.
The three of us were standing in a line that stretched for 2 blocks in both directions, Star Wars fans by the thousands rampaging the crowded walkways to reach the mecca of fandom, Celebration III, the ultimate release party for the final Star Wars movie.
Amidst the sometimes amazing, odd or garrish and horrendously bad costumes an old black man was walking along, a styrofoam cup in his gnarled old hands. In front of each of these oddities of dress he asked simply for someone to spare some change, beckoning gently with his coffer.
His clothes were patched and dirty, his face lined with years. Hundreds, maybe even thousands of eyes turned away, or buried themselves in a ridiculously overpriced convention guide. Thousands of ears became amazingly faulty as his gravelly voice drew near. Yet...something odd passed over Zach's face. There under the grey sky and drizzling rains something was burning like a fire in his eyes.
The man drew nearer and said "Anybody spare some change? Anybody?" only feet away, separated only by the grungy velvet rope of the convention line. The men behind us became instantly stonefaced, the couple in front of us delved animatedly into conversation. But Zach...Zach was still there, lit up from the inside.
With a simple smile, one of those ancient unnerving smiles he was so fond of, he turned to Cody and I and said "Hold my place." With a simple motion he lifted the velvet rope and stepped out onto the sidewalk and said "C'mon friend, have you had breakfast yet? Let me get you something..."
By stepping out of line and giving a simple kindness and a simple smile when no others would, he drove a spear into the heart of apathy. Zach Banker is still my hero.
The three of us were standing in a line that stretched for 2 blocks in both directions, Star Wars fans by the thousands rampaging the crowded walkways to reach the mecca of fandom, Celebration III, the ultimate release party for the final Star Wars movie.
Amidst the sometimes amazing, odd or garrish and horrendously bad costumes an old black man was walking along, a styrofoam cup in his gnarled old hands. In front of each of these oddities of dress he asked simply for someone to spare some change, beckoning gently with his coffer.
His clothes were patched and dirty, his face lined with years. Hundreds, maybe even thousands of eyes turned away, or buried themselves in a ridiculously overpriced convention guide. Thousands of ears became amazingly faulty as his gravelly voice drew near. Yet...something odd passed over Zach's face. There under the grey sky and drizzling rains something was burning like a fire in his eyes.
The man drew nearer and said "Anybody spare some change? Anybody?" only feet away, separated only by the grungy velvet rope of the convention line. The men behind us became instantly stonefaced, the couple in front of us delved animatedly into conversation. But Zach...Zach was still there, lit up from the inside.
With a simple smile, one of those ancient unnerving smiles he was so fond of, he turned to Cody and I and said "Hold my place." With a simple motion he lifted the velvet rope and stepped out onto the sidewalk and said "C'mon friend, have you had breakfast yet? Let me get you something..."
By stepping out of line and giving a simple kindness and a simple smile when no others would, he drove a spear into the heart of apathy. Zach Banker is still my hero.