I’ve always felt an aversion to homeless people - a sense of disrespect. Maybe the lower class upbringing and that instilled belief that every dollar must be earned with hard work has helped build my jaded point of view. All this changed this morning at 7:15.
You were on the corner, crying your eyes out. Bags lying next to you and shoddy blankets around you, you sobbed out loud to no one in particular as if someone close to you had passed. I was a bit alarmed, thinking you had disturbed half the still-sleeping neighborhood. I was walking to the bus and doing my usual job of pretending not to see you, but see you I did.
I found myself slowing as I came nearer to you and a sharp pang of empathy shot out from the still culpable reaches of my soul. Whether coincidence or psychic-whatever-ness, you actually looked up. That’s when I was confronted with my own humanity, probably for the first time in my entire life. I managed to stutter "are you okay"? You shook your head no. I felt that offering money was inappropriate, but I didn’t know what else to say, so I asked if you were hungry. You shook "no" again and stood up. You motioned for a hug and I froze up like a hunted deer. I think some piece of moral fabric distinctly ripped inside me – I stepped forward and complied with your wish. My clothes still smell, but I‘m not going home to change. Screw what my co-workers think..
Now I am sitting at work in an absolute stupor. I tried to imagine a life with little or no social interaction and the mere thought swallowed me whole. I know why you were crying. Where is the meaning in all the plastic shit around me? For that matter WHY IS? I said I hope things get better and I truly meant it. I know you’ll never read this, but I still had to say it. Thank you for the wake up call. I hope I helped you too…