We shouldn’t turn our backs on homeless
My daughter called me one morning at 8 a.m. She was sobbing so hard I could barely hear her at first. She was coming from a major grocery store in Woodland, where we both live. It had been an exceptionally cold night and the wind this morning was frigid. As she was pulling up she saw an elderly man lying on the cement in front of the store. He was visibly shaking from the cold. He had a dog beside him. It was a busy morning and people were walking by looking away. Others were sitting inside at the coffee counter looking through the window with scoffing or uncomfortable looks at the man outside in the cold. Employees came out to demand the man leave. He tried to get up but he explained his feet were frozen. After stumbling a few times on his numb feet he was able to hold his cart and with his dog on a leash, move slowly away.
Homelessness is a big and growing problem, especially in California which has a quarter of the nation’s homeless population. I see the same division on this issue that there is in the issue of immigration. Those who rage against the vulnerable who come to our borders are the same ones who turn their faces or look with scorn at the homeless who are huddled in parks or alleyways or God forbid, grouping in public areas with tents, plastic or simply lying on the frozen ground. Shamed for finding themselves in a cycle of poverty, mental illness or drug addiction. “I hate that people are giving things to the homeless,” someone said recently on neighborhood social media. “It just enables them.” A dog on the streets is treated with more compassion.
My daughter was emotionally reeling by the old man’s plight and hurried into the store to get him a warm cup of coffee or something warm to eat but the line was too long. She grabbed some dog food and ran out before he could get too far away. She drove around and found him behind the store. The sun had come out enough for him to find a sunny little space. He was lying on the ground with his head covered.
This is not the first time my daughter has approached a homeless person. She used to see scenes such as those this morning and feel hopeless and helpless. Afraid. How do you approach a homeless person? She would go home in tears, to the comfort and warmth of her home. She would feel terrible. And guilty. Many of those on the streets had dogs so she began carrying dog food. It gave her a way to approach a homeless person. She didn’t approach those who were asking but rather she approached those who looked as though they were in need.
She noted that most homeless people she approached immediately shared their name. She felt they wanted her to know they were somebody. I’m sure her compassion and acceptance helps them to feel safe and seen. She handed Michael the dog food and said, “I’m so sorry you have to be out here in the cold. Is there anything you need?” He didn’t ask for money or food. He looked at his sneakers with holes in them and said, “My feet are so cold. They get frozen and I can’t walk. I’m afraid the cold will get worse. I wish I had boots.”
“What size shoes do you wear?” she asked him. He said a size 10. “My husband has some old boots about that size. I can bring them to you.” As I talked with her on the phone on her way home to get the boots I was sobbing with her. She had called her husband and he was getting the boots, warm socks and his big winter jacket together for her to take. I asked her to pick me up on her way to deliver the items.
As we drove up to the back of the store there was a group of people waiting at a bus stop just a few yards from where Michael was on the ground, leaning against his cart in the sun. He looked asleep. We pulled up near him and got out of the car. He didn’t stir until my daughter called out his name.
My daughter grabbed a bag out of the back seat and pulled out the boots. She showed him some socks from the bag and then pulled out some big, warm gloves. “My husband wanted you to have these, too,” she said. And then she pulled out a thick winter jacket. He was wearing a thin jacket and his eyes looked big as he quickly reached for it.
I stood silently throughout. Feeling privileged and proud to witness this exchange. I was aware of the people at the bus stop watching. I hope they were learning, as I am, that we can do something. Just a little thing. It’s an old lesson. “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”
Cheryl Canfield reports she has been a Woodland resident off and on for most of 25 years and is the author of “Profound Healing: The Power or Acceptance on the Path to Healing,” as well as being a wellness counselor and an instructor at the Hypnotherapy Training Institute in Corte Madera.