Homeless people make me sad. Every morning when I drive to work, I see a homeless man who must have the same walking route every day. As I’m driving north on Broadway, he’s walking south. Usually as I drive by he is putting something in his mouth. I can’t tell what it is; maybe a Saltine. But it makes me sad. What happened in this guy’s life that brought him to this point? Is he just lazy? Obviously I don’t believe that because I feel sorry for him. (Not that I can’t feel sorry for a lazy person, but I’m not likely to.)
How do they survive? Where do they get clothes, food, money to buy clothes and food? My mind starts spinning in different directions. I just end up having no answers and feeling sad for any person in that predicament.
I also feel sad for someone who used to be a patient in the doctor’s office I work in. He stands at the end of the interstate off ramp holding a sign “Homeless. Need Help. Will Work 4 Food.” Now, last I knew he and his girlfriend at least had an apartment, so I don’t know about the “Homeless” part. They were both “drug seekers,” people who come into the office looking for prescription pain meds (probably to sell on the streets). That would explain why their doctor said “don’t be sorry for him” when I mentioned how I felt. Seems he is digging his own ditch. Nevertheless, how low does a person have to be in life to completely abandon all their pride and stand at the end of the interstate off ramp advertising that they are poor and need help? That is what makes me feel sorry for him.