I had errands to run in my lunch break, a 30 minute lunch break, and I had to get myself across the other side of town to get what I needed. I left just before 12 to avoid any rush.
Then I encountered the homeless guy who sits near the station. Today I was happy to connect but aware that I had limited time. He was sitting in the full sun in 35 degree heat with a small bottle of water and a child’s brightly coloured xylophone, haphazardly tapping the keys, not with any tune just occasionally banging them randomly, or, so it sounded.
One of the reasons I have days where I just don’t want to connect with this guy is that he loves to talk and it is not always logical or rational and it can go on for a while. I really should have just kept walking given my limited time frame, but I didn’t. I commented on him having a xylophone. And of her went. I got a torrent of rage and anger poured out at me. Some of it hard to decipher and other bits just a real outpouring of frustration at his predicament. I did learn that he has children that he has to support (hence I guess the xylophone). I also learnt that one day the homeless people of the world are going to organise themselves and rise up against people like me and get guns and shot us all, or inject us in the neck with drugs. Not that he takes drugs apparently. As a result of not taking drugs (according to the homeless guy) I will die and then I will be sorry. Because he doesn’t like being spat on and he does what he can and he has kids to support.
I stayed and listened to quite a lot of this. I uttered my disbelief that people would spit on him and made encouraging sounds about him supporting his kids and then rushed off to attend to my errands.
Once my errands were completed and i was walking back to work I got to thinking about the homeless guy and I have to admit that I did have some uncharitable thoughts, such as, if he spent less time sitting on the pavement yelling at people and more time looking for a job he might actually get one. The reality is he probably is suffering from a mental illness and if he did get a job it wouldn’t last long. His social skills are not his greatest asset!
So I did all that I could, given that I don’t like to give money, I went and bought him lunch. A sandwich, a pear and an orange juice. I bought them at the local dairy (milk bar) (expensive!!!) and took them back to him. I handed him the bag and said “Some lunch to keep you going.” and turned to walk away.
He blew me away. He said, “Bless you. Sorry about before.”
In connection
100 days of connecting 