The man was sitting inside the Panera store, eating what looks like a piece of bread with nothing on it. His body odor and general appearance indicated he may not have a place to stay. People sat away from him, uncomfortable. I recognize that hunger emanating from him as he handled his bread. I was there. When I finally got my bagel, he was gone. I cried inside.
How many of us is actually willing to sat next to a homeless person for a lengthy period of time, stench be damned? How many of us have the bravery to initiate interaction with them knowing fully well they may not be in the mental state to accept our gesture, that it can end with us getting hurt?
It's a beautiful headline though. We care about the homeless. We are good people with golden heart. We be the good guy. Of course, as long as we do not have to interact with them at all. Or the ones we interacted with are carefully curated to ensure our pretty a$$ is safe. It's the equivalent to religious clothing and/or quoting. What matter is we look nice.
So we step on these people. These people who are lost and wary. These people who needs unconditional love and acceptance. We fought over Covid vaccine and precaution without thinking how it will affect them. We bashed each other over lockdown mandate without considering what hell it will be for them. And as we complain about how difficult life after pandemic is, theirs are even worse.
To help them we need to start accepting them as human, as equal. Choose a person you saw on the street and ask yourself: How can I be comfortable when sitting with them across the table?
Is it the odor or the unhygienic appearance that threw you off? If yes, then we should have more cleaning station. Is it the (possible) violent tendencies? If yes, then we need to focus on safe spaces where they can be free from violence, collect their thoughts, and even wean of the addictive substances they may be using.
The goal is for everyone to sit comfortably on the dinner table. Together. For you to be able to see them and wave cheerfully just as you would to your office's security officer or to your regular convenience store clerk. For them to realize they have a place in this world, and not all is lost.
Until then, I say a little prayer to those I met on the road as well as many others that I did not see. I pray that their night is warm and their day is bearable. I pray that they have a safe place to go. I pray that in the darkness that swamped them there will be light shining through, even if it's just a flicker far out in the distance.
Happy birthday, America. I love you and all your people, including them.
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