A Beggar's Right

On Sunday, February 11, my customary weekend outing took me to the church of St. Germain-des-Près, whose beginnings are among the oldest of all the churches in Paris (and there're a LOT!), dating from about the 6th century. It used to be a large abbey, but since the Revolution, the church is all that remains. After touring the church and taking lots of pictures (about 2/3 of which got lost... but that's another story), I went outside to eat my lunch. I was famished, for it was about 1 pm and breakfast had been many hours before. I sat down on the two or three steps in front of the church and opened my picnic lunch. I turned my iPod to some enjoyable music and began my mid-day meal.

When I was a bit more than halfway finished, a man approached the church with a package. He set the package against a door that was proximate to me, but obviously closed. I figured he was leaving it for the rector or secretary and thought little more of it. A few minutes later, the package was still there. And so was the man who had brought it. He was wandering back and forth in front of the steps. "Okay, maybe he's just waiting for someone," thought I, and continued to finish my lunch.

Another couple of minutes passed. This stranger said something to me, but - having music playing in my headphones - I did not understand him at first. He repeated himself, "Are you finished? ...Are you finished??" (In French, of course.) Ummm... "Yes," I said, hesitantly. That seemed an odd question. "You eat and eat and eat! This is my place," he said, gesturing toward his package, which I now recognized as a beggar's bundle of blankets and cardboard, "I have been waiting and waiting." Well, gee, why didn't you say so? "Yes. I'm finished." I replied, rather coldly, although I clearly was only halfway through the little "gâteau" I had for dessert. I got up and left. If I had had a better grasp on French, I'm sure I wouldn't have hesitated to give him a piece of my mind and/or stay put until I was thoroughly finished, for I was fairly steaming. As it was, I just left. I think body language probably conveyed my feelings sufficiently. :)

But after a little while (say, a few days or a week!), when I was recounting the tale to a friend of mine, I was able to see the humor in it. It was HIS PLACE???? I didn't realize that beggars had assigned seating! I mean, seriously, I was sitting on the far side of the steps. Could he not just as easily set himself up on the OTHER side of the steps??

Or are donations really better when sitting on the "epistle side" of the church steps?!