The last time I saw Charlie, was the first time I had seen him walk out of sight and actually thought to myself, "you know, Charlie just might make it this time."

You see Charlie was homeless. Not poor and homeless, just homeless.

Charlie had shown up one day at the down town shelter, about two years ago. I had volunteered there for a year or so as an administrator of services, and thought I had just about seen everything. But Charlie made me realized that I still had surprises in store for me.

I was sitting at my desk, just taking a short break, when I heard a man's voice saying rather angrily, "But you don't understand, I want to give everything.
Where is the director? I want to give everything."

As I rose from my desk and made my way quickly out into the hall-way, I was startled by the sight. There stood a man, holding a brief case, a cleaner bag with a tuxedo and all the accessories in it, designer shoes on his feet, and other wise stark naked.

Trying hard to keep my composure, I ask the gentleman if he would follow me. Waving the red-faced female attendant away, I motioned to one of the male volunteers to accompany us as we went into my office.

I invited the man to sit, as all I had were metal folding chairs, I cringed as he landed his bare bottom onto the cold seat. It didn't seem to bother him in the least. He sat there for a second and said, "I'm Charlie."

Without mentioning his appearance I ask, "Well Charlie, what can I do for you today?"

He shoved the briefcase my way and tossed the tuxedo bag onto the desk. "Take it, take it all, I don't want this life anymore."

Gently I ask, "Charlie, would you like a cup of coffee? And I just happen to have a pair of jeans and a shirt here that might fit you, may I loan them to you for a while." Charlie agreed to both offers. The volunteer, very obviously familiar with outfitting a variety of sizes, headed off for coffee and some clothing.

Charlie shifted a little on the folding chair, "Open the case, open the case."

I somehow felt that if I opened that case it would be a life changing experience. My gut told me it wasn't going to harm me, although, I had at one time opened a case with a poisonous snake in it, and on another occasion one with a severed hand. But I just felt this wasn't a bomb or anything harmful.

"Charlie, before I do that, why don't you tell me a little about yourself."

By that time Charlie had dressed into the jeans and flannel shirt and was settling down a little with his cup of coffee. He was visibly beginning to relax. The agitation and wildness etched into his well groomed face, slowly eased and he took on a melancholy appearance as he began to speak. His chiseled good looks were complimented by his impeccable vocabulary.

"Well to make a long story short, I am a wealthy man," he said. "So wealthy that I can't spend it all, can't waste it all, I can't even drink it up. Alcholol makes me vomit, and I break out in hives from drugs. I try to give it away but then another bank-account shows up." he said with such remorse it was almost humorous.

"Charlie, wealth can be a powerful and positive thing, why don't you want your money.?

"Because every where I turn, someone is there, with their hand out, wanting to start a new business, or wanting me to fund a project. I used to have a simple life, an uncle, who I didn't even know, died and left me his oil fortune. And I haven't had time to go fishing in over three years." Then he said, "my days are filled with greedy people, I dress in a suit when I would rather have on jeans, shave when I would rather wear a beard, eat eggs benedict when I would rather have biscuits and gravy, and you know, now someone came up the idea I should not have a glass of cold milk, but have hot tea instead. I can't stand it anymore, my life is not my own. You can have it all."

"Charlie, what are your plans, what will you do?"

"I'm going to disappear. Become invisible. I don't want to see anybody I know, I just want to be by myself and live, really live. And I am going to fish, everyday if I want to. So can you help me out or not?"

"Charlie, I think it is time for me to open your brief case." As I opened the case, I saw it was packed tight with stacks of one hundred dollar bills. I had no idea how much money was there, but more than I had ever seen in one place.

"There is one million dollars in there and seven million more in my car, which is parked in front of this building, you can have it too." Charlie said. " And there is plenty more where that came from." I want you to use it all, do whatever good you can with it, it's no good to me."

That was two years ago.

Charlie had stopped in today just to say hello. He told me he was happy with what the organization has done with the money, and thanked me for my help. As I saw Charlie walk away, I looked at the back of a happy man. He never wanted to be consulted as to where his donation was going, where it was being used or how many houses for the homeless it had built. He just wanted it used. It seemed the more we used the more we had.

And as for Charlie, he had a beard now and fished every day. The last I heard from him he was moving into a small house down by the river. It was one in a string of thirty his money had paid for. The huge park that was located there had bath houses, burn barrels, and a few little bridges to get under for when you just had to have a taste of sleeping out-side. You know, the good old days.

And every morning Charlie had a cold glass of milk.