The Man Lying Near The Street

On the way to my son's doctor's appointment recently, we passed several homeless people along the roads near the heart of the city where I live. Some were pushing shopping cars and some were wearing jackets on an above eighty degree day. Some were at intersections holding signs for contributions, their skin aged harshly by the wind and sun. I often think about how they are judged by the people who pass by them. People who think they are better, that they work hard and would never panhandle; would never be homeless.
But never is a slippery slope. The truth is we are all just one catastrophe away from having our lives upended.

As for me, I feel nothing but pity and heartbreak for these people. These people who could be any of us. Like a man I saw with haunting blue eyes peering skittishly, his face drawn and haggard.He could have once been successful in life at one time, or what society deems success. He could have had a fancy house, a car, a family. Maybe something so unspeakable happened and an addiction took over or maybe it was a downward spiral that he couldn't control. Maybe he was plagued by an uncontrollable mental illness.

We can only guess at his story and judging someone who is so helpless and vulnerable is to me almost evil. Not only are they living a daily hell in the elements, filled with all kinds of dangers, they are often scorned on top of that.

I saw another homeless man lying on a median near the road, his shopping cart parked in front of him teeming with all of his worldly possessions. Cars whizzing by, with not a care. Cars with people inside who thank God they are not in his shoes-who would want to be, honestly? And they are no better than him. I am no better than him.

And that is the thing. The homeless are not a different species of human who should be looked down upon. They are humans who are struggling, and we rarely know their stories. Some people have unspeakably hard lives, with childhoods full of abuse and /or a mind that won't let them live a normal life. And to not to have to struggle with that is to be blessed upon blessed.

The sight of the man lying near the street was jarring. He has a story. He is a person like any one of us, he is as important as any one of us. He has a name.



If we could see inside each other
and look into one another's souls
we would see sisters and brothers
not just humans playing roles.