I push a cart with my life’s treasures enclosed in a plastic bag.
My face is unshaven and dirty, my clothes are tattered.
There is even an odor to me.
Your eyes lower when we pass, as if visual contact would erase my existence
I am here by my own submission to hopelessness you say….
You are “cart less” by God’s Grace.
I am not sure I believe in God.
If He were real, I would be soaking my old blistered feet in a hot sudsy tub of water.
Have you ever seen feet like mine?
I remember when I was younger reading a bible passage where Jesus washed
the feet of the men he loved.
You wouldn’t even cast your eyes my way to acknowledge my feet.
I am invisible to the likes of the high and mighty who have homes.
Have you felt my hunger? When you say to a friend ” I’m starved,”
Do you have any true idea of what it means to go without bread for days?
My reservation at the local garbage dump is always honored, You would be welcome there.
Have you heard my request for spare change?
Your usual answer of “I don’t have any,” is a blatant lie,
I won’t drink it away or shoot up, I just want a cup of coffee and a piece of bread.
When you see me sleeping on cardboard with blankets or newspaper to cover me do I repulse you?
I once slept in a king size bed with plaid sheets that smelled of downy.
When I lost my job and my family had enough of my alcoholism,
I left to free them of my pain.
My one noble act, cowardly as it may be, at least kept my wife and child united without the likes of me.
Have you ever looked into the face of someone who wonders daily,
“Is this all there is?”
I think your eyes won’t surrender to my physical image because of fear.
I am…YOU…maybe tomorrow, maybe never, but there is always that possibility.
Next time look, LOOK at me. I also am a creature of God..
Dirty, cold, hungry, and hopeless, but I heard that I am in the image of God.
So next time when those eyes cower, look at my feet. Then slowly absorb the figure up to my face. I at least deserve an educated glance.
I pray for you though I question God’s existence and hearing abilities, for him to change your heart.
Maybe someday our eyes will meet and you will hand me a hot cup of coffee and a sandwich.
Maybe you will realize how fragile having a home and a family are to your journey in life.
Have you seen me?? I have seen you. I pray God will forgive your apathy.
I pray that there will be a season of change and the righteous love of the homeless and helpless will co-exist.
I challenge your eyes to see me…….
I am the humble…. I am the homeless.
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This story was written by a homeless person who had spent the night in a shelter leaving this story behind.
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