Homeless and Looking For Work
Everyday about 10:30ish a man comes around the office building looking for cigarettes in the bins. We usually chitchat, he tells me he is looking for work, and always tells me to have a good weekend and nice day. A very pleasant man actually, that went from being prosperous to homeless in a matter of months. Today we introduced ourselves (we have been communicating for four months now). His name is Steve. I asked Steve a series of questions about where he is staying. He stays at the Samaritan House, where he used to be a resident (residency for homeless is only four months) and now he is on the outside. So what this means is that he is kicked out during the day and allowed to come back in at 9 p.m. I asked what happens if you’re sick, he explained to me that if you’re sick you have to apply for some type of hardship and they will give you a bed for the day. So I asked him about food. He explained to me that he eats at several churches and places that do charity work for the homeless. He then went on to explain that they are well fed. Now Steve explained to me that he had been out on the streets for a year and a half now, since his last construction job. He said he had wrecked his camper and the state sold it and kept the proceeds. He also stated that it has been really hard getting work, and he thinks it is because he is homeless. (He said he was going to shave and clean himself up for next week to start his search again) He said this has been the hardest thing for him since he lost his house and has been out of work. He never anticipated existing on the streets this long.
Now I have to tell you that usually during times that I happen to be outside and I see him and we start to talk, people look as though a crime is being committed. Today one lady was like, “Is he begging you for money?” Let me ask you a question, if you one day found yourself homeless, or downtrodden and you looked to someone for support, or an ear and people shunned you, how would you feel? Let me make this fact known, I speak to all my people, and let me tell you they have stories to tell! The building where I work downtown, there is a park in front so everyone is usually there. I usually get worried when I don’t see the regulars around, especially since they are on the streets. (There was the nicest old man and his dog (that was 17 years old) that would sit in front of the building all day, he hasn’t been around in months…then there was the young girl who was hooked on meth and there was this guy in the building that would hold her money for her and try to help her kick the habit, she hasn’t been around in months either…the man with the shopping cart finally came around today (he had been missing for months too) with a new cart of belongings) You’re not invisible, I notice when you’re not around…
Anyway, I told Steve I would do some searches online for him for construction labor and provide him with a print out. He looked at me and said, “Do you know you have been the only one kind enough to listen to what I have to say?”
Operative word: Listen (these people are not looking for handouts, or free rides, sometimes they just want to talk, sometimes they just need to talk…sometimes they just want to escape into someone else’s life for the moment by listening to other people talking.)
So you shun your brother and sister on the streets; you laugh at them, you persecute them, and physically hurt them and then turn around and go home to your families, or classrooms, or jobs, or even stand in front of your pulpit and have the utter audacity to speak about love and brotherhood.
Think about it…
Now I have to tell you that usually during times that I happen to be outside and I see him and we start to talk, people look as though a crime is being committed. Today one lady was like, “Is he begging you for money?” Let me ask you a question, if you one day found yourself homeless, or downtrodden and you looked to someone for support, or an ear and people shunned you, how would you feel? Let me make this fact known, I speak to all my people, and let me tell you they have stories to tell! The building where I work downtown, there is a park in front so everyone is usually there. I usually get worried when I don’t see the regulars around, especially since they are on the streets. (There was the nicest old man and his dog (that was 17 years old) that would sit in front of the building all day, he hasn’t been around in months…then there was the young girl who was hooked on meth and there was this guy in the building that would hold her money for her and try to help her kick the habit, she hasn’t been around in months either…the man with the shopping cart finally came around today (he had been missing for months too) with a new cart of belongings) You’re not invisible, I notice when you’re not around…
Anyway, I told Steve I would do some searches online for him for construction labor and provide him with a print out. He looked at me and said, “Do you know you have been the only one kind enough to listen to what I have to say?”
Operative word: Listen (these people are not looking for handouts, or free rides, sometimes they just want to talk, sometimes they just need to talk…sometimes they just want to escape into someone else’s life for the moment by listening to other people talking.)
So you shun your brother and sister on the streets; you laugh at them, you persecute them, and physically hurt them and then turn around and go home to your families, or classrooms, or jobs, or even stand in front of your pulpit and have the utter audacity to speak about love and brotherhood.
Think about it…
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