I'm no stranger to seeing homeless people. I think it's part climate and part economic but since our move to Los Angeles I've seen more homeless people than I ever have (even a dead one). I'm good with the "Don't even ask me for a penny" stare and I have the opportunity to practice it quite often here.
Every once in a while I will give some change or a couple dollars to someone asking for it but for the most part I've been dissappointed in their show of appreciation when I've given up some of my money when they just asked for it. Today while walking into the post office I saw a homeless black man while I was approaching the door and I decided early that I wasn't going to give him any money (especially on account of being asked for it by some punk kid in an alley in Santa Monica only 30 minutes earlier). But when I neared the entrance he noticed my cold stare and silently sort of motioned that he was ok with me not giving him any money and the way he shook his hands and bowed his head when I passed made an impression on me. At the time I didn't think anything of it but at dinner Nicole and I were discussing the economic climate and the less fortunate people and she asked why she was so deserving of having a cell phone and a home phone and internet. My mind immediately raced to the black man in front of the post office who was thankful I even acknowledged him in my cold way.
My heart started breaking for him and I find myself hoping he's got somewhere warm to sleep tonight on account of the projected low being near 40 degrees. I can't shake his soft, harmless but please-just-help-me-out-I'm-starving kind of demeanor and now I'm wondering if he knows he's good at this or if he really is just a guy down on his luck.
I think the old me would immediately assume this was just some act but while volunteering at a homeless shelter in college I had a short conversation with a truly unfortunate sole. It was my job at the homeless shelter to hand out toiletries before shower and bed time and most of the homeless would just line up at my window and wait for their travel size soap, shampoo, toothbrush, toothpaste and towel. I noticed that there were a few guys who always hung out at the perifery of my window until the line had diminished and then most of them would come up and ask for very specific shampoo or toothpaste items (which I wouldn't have had the time to find in the box had they been in line). I recall thinking to myself that beggars shouldn't be choosers until I ran into an Asian man who wasn't three years older than I was. He had on fairly nice clothes and really didn't look like the other homeless guys. After all the picky homeless had cleared he slowly (and shamefully) approached and asked me what I was doing there. I replied it was a requirement for some coursework and he responded that only a few short months ago he was also going to school at the very same university. I realized it was very difficult for him to have to ask for help from one of his peers and he had to clear his chest before he could take the few items from me. He told me about how his family was very poor and very far away and when his home burned down he literally had no where to go and maxed out his credit cards just trying to survive and stay in school. He ended up having to drop out and stay at the homeless shelter in order to get his life back on track. I remember him walking away telling me to be thankful for what I had because it can all be taken away at any moment.
It was this same feeling that the black man in front of the post office gave me today. He wasn't dressed in rags and he didn't make me feel like he felt he was deserving of money like a lot of the other homeless. He seemed to honestly feel bad about asking for it. It makes me sad to think that I did have one last dollar in my pocket and I wouldn't have missed it for a moment but it might have provided him with something to eat.
Now I feel guilty and had Nicole not asked me why she was so deserving of pleasures which I feel are so simple I wouldn't have given him a second thought which makes me feel even more guilty.
This is when religious people pray for the less fortunate and I wonder if sometimes the only reason we pray is to make ourselves feel better.
I hope I have the chance to pass the black man in front of the post office again and let him know I feel for him. May he find a warm place to sleep tonight.
