Wanting to Change

Four and a half years ago, on a warm January night in San Francisco, I watched a beautiful woman stop and talk to a homeless man. The homeless man was black and tall, his cloths grimy and dirty. He did not look sick, but rather pretty fit for one who has no roof over his head most nights. The woman was white, short, in her fifties, and was quite honestly easy prey had the homeless man wanted to mug her.

He had asked for money, as the homeless are wont to do. She agreed to give him some, but in return he had to talk to her. So there I stood with two others, waiting for this woman to listen to this total strangers story. But she did not listen at a distance. She hugged him, if I remember correctly, thanked him, and gave the lords blessing to him. Then we found a restaurant and ate. Not surprisingly, she paid over my protesting. That is just who she is.

Much later, I found myself approached by a man asking for money. Was he homeless? He certainly looked the part. What would he do with money if I gave him some? Buy drugs? Alcohol? Once my wallet was out and open, would he produce a knife and demand it all? Would I be forced to kick his ass if he got tough? A thousand questions, some answers, in the two seconds between him asking for a (needed?) handout and my curt reply of ‘Sorry, Pal, I am pretty much broke.’

I don’t think I am a bad person. But I don’t think I am half the person the woman was almost a half decade ago.

Experience tells me that when someone is homeless, they did something to get there. They screwed up their own life, and now depend on the charity of others for survival. At one time, I would have simply said (at least in my own head) ‘Hey, get a job! McDonalds is always hiring! No one is around to give me a handout! I have to work for what I got, and so should YOU!’

Not today. Something, at some point, changed in me. No, not religion. I hold the same views of that as I have all my adult life. (Which is none of your business, thank you very much.) So what is it?

I don’t know. But I hope that when I find the answers, I can perhaps become half the person I saw that night in San Francisco