Under the cardboard
This is about the many ones who are out there in the cold. In the beginning of my understanding of homelessness I believed that perhaps people on the streets were simply lazy or maladjusted. Now I believe differently.
Think about it. Everyone you see out there under the cardboard or with a sign on the corner was once some child with goals and dreams and a mother or dad who had dreams, too. The reason we don’t look or wonder or even care about the poor or downcast are of course many. Primary among them is fear: fear that somehow whatever grace or safety we have managed, we could fall from it in an instant. We all understand deep down our own vulnerability to hard times, to bad luck, to one single tragic turn of events. It could be anyone.
In our country we have an invisible problem of pernicious fish syndrome. The well fish pick on the sick ones or kill them like a society bereft of conscience. Turn over the cardboard tent in your mind next time you walk by the park. See what’s inside, someone’s fate.
It isn’t their fault. It’s their fate. It’s the lesson they are learning, the lesson on their own path. How easy if those of privilege would ease the pain of those on more difficult paths. Take some food or blankets or toys for children. Leave them nearby or leave some part of your heart full of good will and pray for the joy of all people.
Image by <a href="https://pixabay.com/users/sinzicraciun0-1149945/?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=1487553">sinzicraciun0</a> from <a href="https://pixabay.com/?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=1487553">Pixabay</a>