The Homeless Shelter
I was driving home at about 6:30 pm after enjoying a pleasant meal with a friend. My route took me past The Homeless Shelter. There must have been 15 people standing in the cold, starting their evening wait for a bed for the night. Some of them had their possessions piled into a shopping cart. Others carried bags and were wrapped in blankets. It was hard to tell, but on this evening, it appeared to be mostly men who were waiting.
When I saw them huddled together in the dimness of the street light, my eyes welled up and I said a quiet blessing and sent it their way. I got as far as one block away before the tears spilled over and I realized they were tears of anger.
How dehumanizing for people to have to gather in the hope that they will get a thin mat on the floor for the night. How demoralizing if they have counted those lined up before them and know that they may be the one that doesn’t get in. How unimaginable that they then must find a quiet spot behind a dumpster somewhere and by carefully arranging their cardboard and blankets, somehow manage to protect themselves from the elements.
I’ve had some interesting experiences recently. A few health issues, disappointments around work related stuff, some incredibly bad customer service and a few other annoying things. It’s called life and there are no guarantees that it will be an easy journey for any of us.
But these annoyances vanished when I drove by this motley collection of tattered looking souls shivering together on the corner of the street that night. My tummy was full and I knew that I was heading home to a warm house, a soft bed and my loveable pooch.
My tears were about the skewed priorities we seem to have. When did we become so indifferent? There are those who think that street people are there due to being inept at this thing called life. Perhaps this is true for some. Or that they are there due to addiction issues. Again, might be true for some. Some of the street people may have mental health challenges and are therefore unable to take their medication correctly.
Then there are the working poor who earn minimum wage and who simply cannot find, nor afford a place of their own. (low end motels are charging $700/month)
But ask yourself does it really matter why these people are there? Does this justify leaving them out in the cold. Of course it doesn’t. They are someone’s child, someone’s wife, someone’s dad, someone’s daughter. They are living, breathing, walking, talking human beings who have feelings, wants, needs, desires and amazingly, hope.
Do not fool yourself that you could never be in this situation. Remember the 1980’s when CEO’s lost their job and ended up living in their cars with their families. I know for certain they never thought they would have to live on the street. That was not their life goal.
Poverty diminishes a person, strips humans of their soul and leaves them vulnerable to the point of being emotionally raw in so many different ways. It is so disempowering.
Margaret Mead once said, “Never believe that a few caring people can’t change the world. For, indeed, that’s all who ever have”.
Drive by your local shelter one evening after dark. Better yet, offer to volunteer. I promise you will be changed by what you see. Then you will have the opportunity to be part of that special few.
Carole Fawcett is a stress management consultant and laughter coach who provides keynotes and workshops for any group/company/business. Her speaches and workshops are upbeat, fun and interactive. She is also a professional freelance writer and belongs to the Professional Writers Association of Canada (PWAC). She lives in the Okanagan Valley in British Columbia, Canada, with her dog Huey. http://www.afunnybusiness.ca
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