One night, as I brought down a large gallon jug
of hot split pea soup and set it down on the cement block near the heating vent
where the homeless gathered, a rather rough looking fellow picked up the jar of
soup and in one motion broke that jar over my head
Instead
of running away, I asked the man why he had done that. These were probably the
first words I had ever spoken to any of them.
He told
me that I was doing nothing more than bringing food, setting it down like I was
feeding them out of a pet dish and then just walking away. He said "Talk
to us. Visit with us. We won't bite."
What happened
that night was the first barrier had been broken in my perceptions of who homeless
people are. I realised that these men and women on the streets had feelings just
like me.
They wanted to be loved and respected and listened
to. They cared that someone cared about them, but just giving food and a blanket
was not enough.
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