Helping the Homeless

I have never seen a person's eyes light up the way his did at the word "socks".

For the past 2 1/2 years we have lived in close-in Portland. Our south-facing windows open up to one of the main drags. Our neighbors are both the millionaires and the destitute.

For the past 2 1/2 years we have lived among the homeless, yet our walls and our roof set us apart as much as if we lived in a parallel dimension. I have seen them forage through trash, sleep in doorways, shiver under wet trees, emerge from dumpsters, bathe in fountains, and relieve themselves on the roadside.

And yet none of this disgusts me.

It makes me feel completely and utterly heartbroken and GUILTY.

Guilty that I have a house and food to eat and a family and a church who would never let me go without a house or food to eat. Guilty that I was born into a white middle class family with college-educated parents. Guilty that by dumb luck I was born into circumstances that make a roof over my head and food on my table automatic.

There are some people who don't have that privilege. They don't have the privilege of staying dry in the rain. They don't get the privilege of eating three meals a day (or any meals a day) or wearing clean clothes. Some people are consigned to a fate of living under a bridge, of begging others for their basic needs.

These people are shunned and hated. The "haves" are so disgusted by these dirty, hungry people that they say, "They brought it upon themselves. If they just did [insert judgemental command here] they wouldn't be homeless." To those who think that a man chooses to live in the dirt, chooses to sleep in a wet sleeping bag, chooses to go without the daily necessities you and I take for granted, I would ask one question:

"Have you ever talked to a homeless person?"

Have you ever put your judgements aside and listened to him? Really listened to his story? Because if you have, I guarantee that you know that nobody chooses to live like a dog on the streets.

Personally, I don't care how they got there. I just care about how we can help them.

There is a man I have known for 2 1/2 years now. He lives underneath the bridge by my gym. He is mentally and physically ill. He carries around a pillow because he can only take 3-4 steps at a time before he needs to sit on the ground and rest. And as I watch him walk and rest and walk and rest the only thought running through my head is, "We have failed him."

We have failed him. And so many others like him.

I don't have large scale solutions. But I know that these people are people. They are human, just like you and me. The biggest disservice I can give to them is to ignore them. To bottle up my guilt and my disgust and let them fade into the background. To tell myself they deserve to live like that and to kid myself that I did anything to deserve what I have.

Tonight my family bought 10 pizzas, soda, and apples, and took them to a camp of homeless people at our neighborhood park. They were thrilled, to say the least. We were met with many "thank yous", "God bless yous", "God loves yous", and even one, "I hope you have many more children!" They were lovely people. They called their friends over to share pizza. They smiled and they laughed.

Since we are moving we had bags of socks, shirts, and pants to give away. They received the bags of our old stuff like it was Christmas.

When I was younger I always got this really warm fuzzy feeling when I helped someone. I don't get that anymore. Sure, I feel good that we were able to deliver some necessities to these people, but I don't kid myself into thinking that I am solving their problems. Tonight, as I sit in my soft bed with my air conditioner running, my door safely locked in front, those men and women are still homeless. They are still sleeping on the street. They are uncomfortable. They are dirty. And I am powerless to fix that.

The gift I CAN give these people is to see them. To see them as people, even as my brothers and sisters. To see them as deserving of being seen. To teach my children to do the same. To lobby for change in our city so that these people have their basic needs met.

As we drove to the park tonight to deliver pizza I told my children that providing a meal is not going to fix the problems these homeless people face. But letting them know that someone cares, that someone sees them, that someone may even love them? Well, that may just help a bit. So that's what we'll do.