Homeless and Helpless

I was on a crowded shuttle bus one evening and there was an African-American homeless man sitting in the front seat. He looked to be in his early 60's. I assume he was high on some type of paraphernalia because he was talking loudly and swatting at flies that weren't there. Half of the people seated in front of the bus were staring and laughing. I was staring and then dropped my head and laughed to myself. Then I stopped and realized how sad this man situation must be.

I didn't see my first real homeless person till after I graduated college and moved to St. Louis. Praise God I don't reside in that city anymore. Furthermore it was a cultural shock for me to see such a thing in person. It was weird and a little unnerving having an unsightly stranger approach me and ask me for money. Now living here in New York City; I realize that homelessness in an epidemic. I see a homeless person everyday. Sometimes I don't even realize I'm looking at a human being because they are covered with papers or curled up in a tight ball. It's odd to me because this is the place where people come to fulfill their dreams and hopes. I never thought I would walk outside and see soo much pain, despair and hopelessness.

There are different categories of homeless people. I'm sure this is not all of them. What I have seen is: Sad, Bold,and Angry. Last week I spoke to a homeless woman on the train. She was Caucasian, short, and looked to be in her late 40's. She stood up from her seat,and gave a speech to a car full of young African Americans. She said she was down on her luck and she would not be asking for handouts unless she really needed to. A young teenage girl ask her if she ate chicken. The homeless lady replied "yeah". The teenage girl gave the woman her box of leftover Popeye's. There was a young lady next to me who gave her some money. The homeless woman started walking and lost her balance on the moving train. She smacked her jaw into one of the pole that stands in the middle of the train for passengers to hold on to. The poor woman looked as if she was trying her best to fight back tears. She grabbed her jaw with eyes closed and pain on her face. A woman who was in her 20's offered her some water to get the blood out of her mouth, but woman turned it down. She said she had water in her bag. She stood there until the next stop. I gave the woman some money as well as a few Ib Profen. She thanked me and then began to tell me what was going on with her. She said that her husband had committed suicide last week and that she was just barely hanging on. She also stated that her mouth was already hurting her because she had an infected tooth. I don't know if it was true or not. I did inform her on some of the free services that were available to her in that area. She told me she knew about them already. All I could say was keep holding on and things will get better. She thanked me for my generosity and we parted ways. I honestly don't remember if I told her to pray to God for help,or if the words God bless you was mentioned.

To top it off later that week was another homeless man on the train. I couldn't tell if he was African American or Hispanic. He was about 5'10, slim, and had on sunglasses that didn't really stay on his face. He held a large picture in his hand, but I couldn't see clearly what was on it. Apparently it was a picture of him before and after he first got burned. This man face was completely covered with deep heavy scars. His ears were disfigured and one of his eyes were practically hanging out. I assume it was a false eyeball. It was absolutely horrible pitiful site. He gave a speech also, but I couldn't really make out what he was saying. Though we all knew that he wanted money. Male and female alike willing gave it to him. The whole thing made me want to cry. I reached in my purse to give the man some money, but he walked right passed me. I even waited to see if he was getting off at the next stop, so I could catch him and give him the money. He stayed on the train but went to the next car telling his sob story and collecting more money. I stood there on the platform thinking to myself, "I give more money to the homeless than I do to the church".

I don't know how I forgot about the homeless man on the train with no shirt on. He was a tall, black, frail man. He sat there shivering and twitching. He had on busted tennis shoes. One of them had a huge hole in the front. You could see his big toe sticking out of it. He must of had an infection in that toe because it was black as night. The toenail itself looked molded. There was a African American, heavy set, lady on the train giving a speech about how she needed money and wasn't ashamed to accept food also. She called herself "MAMA". Someone gave her some money, but when she looked at the dirty homeless man she gave him the money. She then reached in her plastic bag and gave him a sandwich also. The man took the handouts without sayin a word of thanks. MAMA told him "God bless you". I was amazed to see one homeless person help another. I guess she knew he was worse off then she was.

I woke up the next morning cursing God because I had spilled pomegranate juice in the refrigerator. There was juice everywhere including the floor. I took out the drawers to the fridge and washed, wiped and dried. I was so upset. I didn't think I was going to have enough time to catch the bus, but I did. I sat on the bus mad at the juice that spilled and the time it took to clean it up. I didn't really feel like being sociable. I sat there in my seat and that's when I thought back to the homeless man. He doesn't even have the sight to clean up a mess like I had made that morning. I apologized to God for cursing him. Instead I thanked him quietly for my many blessings.