Before I start, this post is my own: ‘kirstenlovestea’, it wasn’t copied from anywhere else, although I am sure it has been done before and thought of by some of you.
I have seen an alarming increase of homeless people these past few weeks. Normally I would walk right past them but lately every time I see a man or a woman sitting in the street begging for money I start to think of their story. How they got there. What they had done or not done in their lives. Had they been born into poverty? Gone to college or university? Do they have any relatives? Someone, somewhere must care or once have cared about them. Surely.
Sometimes the answer lies in their dilated pupils or the stench of their breath, the needle scars on their arms or the empty six pack laying beside them. Others however, are much more complex. Something terrible may have happened to them and we wouldn’t even know it, because we don’t take the time to listen or learn or think.
They have a story, and maybe, possibly, it is worth hearing.
Some people are there by choice; although they may not see it that way, others are there because they have been forced out, because they have nowhere else to go and because no one will spread kindness their way.
Will you? Will I?
I’m 'gonna try!
Christmas cheer, volunteers?
Care packages. Some soap, a washcloth, plasters, a toothbrush. Simple things. Some bottled water, a sandwich, some crisps, and energy bar. Some spare change. All wrapped up nicely in some Christmas paper, it could make someone’s day, or not. But, if I was in their position, it would make mine. Because it shows that you care.
This all sounds so cheesy but it will work, it will happen.
I am going to save a few pounds each week to put it towards this. I want to. It will make me feel better, and hopefully them too.
Help me? Please?