stop forgetting your wallet everywhere you go.
Usually, on Tuesday Thursdays I take the bus home because Chris drops me off at class. Usually I'm riding back with the same people every week, and it's been fun getting to know them. Today though, I met someone new (to me, but apparently not to the bus because he knew the bus driver.) I asked him how long he's been homeless. He said 31 weeks. 31 weeks.
Homelessness has a ridiculous soft spot in my heart (you'd think this should be the case across the US...if it were maybe we could do something about it.) And last semester I did a service learning project with an organization that provides showers, laundry service, and interview training to homeless people in the mornings. Very few things break my heart more than talking with homeless people who seriously have NO hope. Can you imagine living with no hope? None. No hope in waking up tomorrow and getting to eat breakfast, or to shower, or to hug someone they love. NOTHING. It seriously makes me want to cry.
And I also can't stand when people tell me not to give cash to homeless people because "they'll just buy liquor with it," like someone said to me. I could care less what the heck they do with it, if I were sleeping on the streets for 31 weeks I'd probably want a drink too. Do I think giving them cash is going to solve their life problems? No. It's funny, because as he spoke to me, he was not looking for ANYTHING from me at all. He said everything so calmly and without any dose of self-pity. He also told me that he can't even get food from the food bank because he doesn't have an ID. Ridiculous.
Anyways. Off my soapbox.
Today this man was 31 weeks in and terribly sick. Sneezing and coughing every minute. I so badly wanted to run into the store and buy him medicine, but I forgot my wallet. So I sat with him on the bus, waiting outside of a grocery store of which I have the luxury on any other day of being able to go in and buy just about anything I could want. I wanted to punch myself. I noticed that he had to keep wiping his nose with a crumbled up piece of paper towel that had clearly been used all day. All I could offer him was a package of tissues that I luckily had in my bag from Nicaragua-I never used them..and I had been meaning to take them out of there but (thankfully) never did.
I seriously can't imagine this man's situation. Homeless and sick, with no bed to sleep in..I don't have a real point to this post except for maybe it will help me to remember to be more prepared. Especially in this area-homelessness is so prominent. Why do I always seem to forget how blessed I am.
Usually, on Tuesday Thursdays I take the bus home because Chris drops me off at class. Usually I'm riding back with the same people every week, and it's been fun getting to know them. Today though, I met someone new (to me, but apparently not to the bus because he knew the bus driver.) I asked him how long he's been homeless. He said 31 weeks. 31 weeks.
Homelessness has a ridiculous soft spot in my heart (you'd think this should be the case across the US...if it were maybe we could do something about it.) And last semester I did a service learning project with an organization that provides showers, laundry service, and interview training to homeless people in the mornings. Very few things break my heart more than talking with homeless people who seriously have NO hope. Can you imagine living with no hope? None. No hope in waking up tomorrow and getting to eat breakfast, or to shower, or to hug someone they love. NOTHING. It seriously makes me want to cry.
And I also can't stand when people tell me not to give cash to homeless people because "they'll just buy liquor with it," like someone said to me. I could care less what the heck they do with it, if I were sleeping on the streets for 31 weeks I'd probably want a drink too. Do I think giving them cash is going to solve their life problems? No. It's funny, because as he spoke to me, he was not looking for ANYTHING from me at all. He said everything so calmly and without any dose of self-pity. He also told me that he can't even get food from the food bank because he doesn't have an ID. Ridiculous.
Anyways. Off my soapbox.
Today this man was 31 weeks in and terribly sick. Sneezing and coughing every minute. I so badly wanted to run into the store and buy him medicine, but I forgot my wallet. So I sat with him on the bus, waiting outside of a grocery store of which I have the luxury on any other day of being able to go in and buy just about anything I could want. I wanted to punch myself. I noticed that he had to keep wiping his nose with a crumbled up piece of paper towel that had clearly been used all day. All I could offer him was a package of tissues that I luckily had in my bag from Nicaragua-I never used them..and I had been meaning to take them out of there but (thankfully) never did.
I seriously can't imagine this man's situation. Homeless and sick, with no bed to sleep in..I don't have a real point to this post except for maybe it will help me to remember to be more prepared. Especially in this area-homelessness is so prominent. Why do I always seem to forget how blessed I am.
