Jags of Sadness
The past twenty four hours I have been really up and down. I miss my dad a lot. I am in a city where there is so much he would enjoy and where we could really have fun together.
But there are reminders of life's fragility all around, especially in the faces of homelessness that abound in this city. There are many.
Some are young. Some old. Some have animals. I have stopped to talk to a pair with a dog, Buddy, a couple of times. I shared some food with them, and they were truly appreciative. The first time I stopped, there was a third guy with them. We spoke about God and love, and one of them pulled out a Bible and started talking about how he had been to a Bible Study the night before and left feeling a little better, a little more hopeful.
As we were sharing some thoughts a woman walking up the street started to scream at them, calling them ignorant and demanding they get out of her neighborhood. It just made me feel so sad. How human beings can treat each other so badly. But I shouldn't be surprised. I have witnessed it and in fact am living through a situation right now that is the height of selfish greed.
We agreed that this woman knew not of what she spoke, and shared more about Jesus and his love for all.
I imagine it is a bit easier perhaps being alone and on the street with the unconditional love of a dog. I asked about feeding Buddy and they said that they have a ten pound bag of food in their backpack for him and he eats first. I believed them.
Then there are other homeless who reek of alcohol. Does God love them any less? Or are begging for spare change while unable to stand up straight. Or who are huddled under the eave of a building. Or are muttering to themselves, or are like the woman that Nicole and I stopped to talk to who was pushing her two cats around in a stroller and was pretty batty. In fact the more we spoke to her, the more we realized just how out of touch she was.
But don't we really all want the same thing? Connection. Love. Touch. A home. A place to call our own...and it reminds me how quickly we assume we know other's stories and make snap judgments about them. And how those judgments often dissuade us from engaging in meaningful ways with others, because of how uncomfortable it might be for us. But yet, chances are it would be huge for the other person.
I have been thinking about this a lot with the loss of my dad. There are lots of people who haven't acknowledged the loss. They don't know what to say, or don't want to bring it up. But like any loss, (miscarriage, divorce...)it isn't reminding the person of anything they aren't immersed in anyway.
In fact, I think just the opposite is true, that it demonstrates caring. And I for one, appreciate that.
Go let someone know you care.
Peace.
But there are reminders of life's fragility all around, especially in the faces of homelessness that abound in this city. There are many.
Some are young. Some old. Some have animals. I have stopped to talk to a pair with a dog, Buddy, a couple of times. I shared some food with them, and they were truly appreciative. The first time I stopped, there was a third guy with them. We spoke about God and love, and one of them pulled out a Bible and started talking about how he had been to a Bible Study the night before and left feeling a little better, a little more hopeful.
As we were sharing some thoughts a woman walking up the street started to scream at them, calling them ignorant and demanding they get out of her neighborhood. It just made me feel so sad. How human beings can treat each other so badly. But I shouldn't be surprised. I have witnessed it and in fact am living through a situation right now that is the height of selfish greed.
We agreed that this woman knew not of what she spoke, and shared more about Jesus and his love for all.
I imagine it is a bit easier perhaps being alone and on the street with the unconditional love of a dog. I asked about feeding Buddy and they said that they have a ten pound bag of food in their backpack for him and he eats first. I believed them.
Then there are other homeless who reek of alcohol. Does God love them any less? Or are begging for spare change while unable to stand up straight. Or who are huddled under the eave of a building. Or are muttering to themselves, or are like the woman that Nicole and I stopped to talk to who was pushing her two cats around in a stroller and was pretty batty. In fact the more we spoke to her, the more we realized just how out of touch she was.
But don't we really all want the same thing? Connection. Love. Touch. A home. A place to call our own...and it reminds me how quickly we assume we know other's stories and make snap judgments about them. And how those judgments often dissuade us from engaging in meaningful ways with others, because of how uncomfortable it might be for us. But yet, chances are it would be huge for the other person.
I have been thinking about this a lot with the loss of my dad. There are lots of people who haven't acknowledged the loss. They don't know what to say, or don't want to bring it up. But like any loss, (miscarriage, divorce...)it isn't reminding the person of anything they aren't immersed in anyway.
In fact, I think just the opposite is true, that it demonstrates caring. And I for one, appreciate that.
Go let someone know you care.
Peace.
Labels: acknowledging grief, caring, grief, Homelessness, sadness
posted by www.kathypride.com at
1:06 AM
2 Comments:
I went to san francisco a few years ago. all i wanted to do was love the homeless. someone who was with me, who is a Christian, pulled me away in disgust. it was so sad to me, i cried many tears over one of Gods' children being disgusted with other of Gods' children. i wanted to go back for the sole reason of loving them in a tangible way.
Check out abc.com and the What Would You Do? episode 3/10/09 about the Fallen Person. They had an actor pretend he was homeless and collapse on a crowded sidewalk in the middle of rush hour in Newark, NJ. 88 people passed before a poor woman limped her way over to the man and asked person after person if they would call an ambulance. 26 more people passed her by till someone finally stopped to make a call to 911. The look on that woman's face haunts me. Such dispair. Such disappointment. Such sadness. Such loss of hope in humanity. At one point it appears as if she maybe swears at God (you can only read lips). I wonder what is her story. Where is she now? She taps her way down the street while the camera crews and reporters get release signatures and you can almost hear people preaching about how you should help people, but how many did? Meanwhile the "angel" moves on, not finding it all entertaining. This is life on the street, and I can only assume by her somber that it was all too familiar. She knows what to do: tries to find a person with a cell phone, throws away the beer can so people will be more likely to help, gives the man a name ("Billy") to create a bond and uses it so that others will put a name with a body, she encourages him, cares for him. A lone woman that has probably seen her fair share of heartache. And where does she go? The police say that she was once homeless. So who is helping the real "Good Samaritan"?
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