This World We Live In
Last night as I was driving home, I saw something that just broke my heart.
The exit from 95 N onto 175 W is regulated by a stoplight. In the last year, this intersection has been sporadically visited by two homeless men; always the same two, and never at the same time. While this is unusual for Columbia and always sad to see, people living in unfortunate circumstances is hardly a new concept. So what did I find so particularly disturbing? I'll tell you.
There were about five cars in line at the red light, I being somewhere in the middle. Up ahead the thinner, older homeless man was talking to the driver of the SUV at the head of the line. He was clutching a beat-up paper cup of lemonaide and a dirty looking bag of food from the nearby Chick-fil-A. The light suddenly changed and he jerked back to get out of the way, dropping his food beneath the wheel of the SUV in the process. He reached toward the bag in a rather desperate-looking way, then cringed, and scuttled backward onto the verge, obviously expecting the SUV to peel off, running over his food.
I must admit, I burst into tears at the implications of his movement. So you can't save everyone, and you need to take care of yourself first or you just become part of the problem. But why do people go out of their way to hurt others? Why do people decline the opportunity to at least do no harm? Evidently, people have in his life. I know they have in mine. I didn't sleep well last night. And you know what? Being human, my main emotional focus is the horror of it for me. I haven't 1/10th of the idea of what it is actually like to be that man and I never will.
I'm glad to say that the SUV waited and waved the man to go ahead and reclaim his dinner. For once, no one honked their displeasure. After several seconds of stunned disbelief, he darted forward, snatched up his bag and his cup and jumped back onto the verge, taking a long sip from his cup as he walked toward the middle of the green. The traffic moved on, and I with it.
The exit from 95 N onto 175 W is regulated by a stoplight. In the last year, this intersection has been sporadically visited by two homeless men; always the same two, and never at the same time. While this is unusual for Columbia and always sad to see, people living in unfortunate circumstances is hardly a new concept. So what did I find so particularly disturbing? I'll tell you.
There were about five cars in line at the red light, I being somewhere in the middle. Up ahead the thinner, older homeless man was talking to the driver of the SUV at the head of the line. He was clutching a beat-up paper cup of lemonaide and a dirty looking bag of food from the nearby Chick-fil-A. The light suddenly changed and he jerked back to get out of the way, dropping his food beneath the wheel of the SUV in the process. He reached toward the bag in a rather desperate-looking way, then cringed, and scuttled backward onto the verge, obviously expecting the SUV to peel off, running over his food.
I must admit, I burst into tears at the implications of his movement. So you can't save everyone, and you need to take care of yourself first or you just become part of the problem. But why do people go out of their way to hurt others? Why do people decline the opportunity to at least do no harm? Evidently, people have in his life. I know they have in mine. I didn't sleep well last night. And you know what? Being human, my main emotional focus is the horror of it for me. I haven't 1/10th of the idea of what it is actually like to be that man and I never will.
I'm glad to say that the SUV waited and waved the man to go ahead and reclaim his dinner. For once, no one honked their displeasure. After several seconds of stunned disbelief, he darted forward, snatched up his bag and his cup and jumped back onto the verge, taking a long sip from his cup as he walked toward the middle of the green. The traffic moved on, and I with it.