The last two weeks have been below freezing at night.
I was at the Center for Active Aging last week when I overheard a private conversation between a town employee and a homeless lady.
My heart went out to the woman, who was physically disabled. Everything she owned was in a shopping cart.
I thought, "I have an extra room...," yet I did nothing. I risked breaking my lease by taking in a homeless acquaintance a few years ago. It did not work out well.
On Saturday, a scruffy-looking homeless man rang my doorbell. We talked through my storm door. It was in the 20s and especially windy that day. He was literally freezing and begged me to come inside. I felt heartless for turning him down.
As soon as I closed the front door, I called 911. I begged the police to patrol this area immediately. They needed to find the man as soon as possible and get him to a warming shelter. I know there's a shelter for homeless men in the next town. But what is there in mine?
Here's a horrible analogy... If you see one or two cockroaches where you live, your house is likely to be infested. Now, I am not equating homeless people to vermin. I'm just saying that I have no idea how many homeless people are in my town. It's apparent to me that my two examples could mean dozens to hundreds of individuals in need. These folks are the poorest of the poor. As a society, we need to provide them with low income housing and provide an array of social services to them. Have we done that? If not, what is our collective excuse?
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