Knowing the homeless

Knowing the Homeless
Driving around town eating our mid-winter ice creams we stopped for a few minutes. “See that guy over there? The one by the white van? We went to school together here in town. Now he lives in that van.” Melancholy in the comment.

Aghast, the question, “what can we do to help him?”

The brief story ensued of a life that had fallen apart after divorce. Of distant relationships with grown children. Of broken friendships. How, indeed, could we make a difference? We would undoubtedly be rejected, our best efforts a waste. Best to not try. To one another we hoped that this man’s life would mend, and that his children would help him eventually. That was six years ago. Sad to say, I don’t know what became of him.

Broken relationships are a characteristic of homelessness, for a wide assortment of reasons. Whether homeless because there was no one to help during difficult times, as an escape from abuse or as an escape to addiction, as a result of poor choices or from a feeling of having no choice, those who are homeless desperately need someone who cares, someone objective and real and honest with them. Someone who loves them selflessly, and in spite of poor choices, in spite of bad luck or current circumstance.

The profoundly homeless are at the most unlovely place in their lives. Often struggling with health issues (including stress related disorder, mental illness, physical disability and at times, addictions), these are people also struggling to stay alive in an unfriendly environment.

They may be dirty (where can they shower?). They may be suspicious of people (they’ve been habitually let down, or worse). They may be ill (if they make it to a clinic, even doctors turn them away). They need to feel and be cared for in the face of all of that.

What should we have done those six years ago?

Walked over to that man and started a friendly conversation, invited him to have a cup of coffee with us, and a pastry. Listened to him. Made a point of seeing him at least a couple of times a month and sharing a meal. We should have built a respectful relationship with him. And as the relationship built and time passed, we would have had the opportunity to ask about his life goals, and if there were ways we could help (please note: not told him what he needed, and not informed him what we would do). We might have put him in contact with others who could best be of specific help, as we continued to be his friend.

But the better question: What could we have done if he were our friend twelve years ago, before the homelessness? The answer: Taken him out for coffee and a pastry. Listened to him, and as we listened and built respectful relationship, asked how we could help. Even if we sided with his wife in the divorce? Yes. Even if we thought he’d made some poor life choices? Yes. He could have used the honest voice of a good friend then. And perhaps his life would have been vastly different.