Mom's the Word: Reaction to homeless is unsettling
There was a homeless man at church when we came in.
He was sitting in the pew in the back corner of church where latecomers like us end up. Although his back was to us, I could tell he was down on his luck by the clean but frayed green parka and black pants he wore, his longish white hair in dire need of a trim and the small black backpack he had set at his feet.
Maybe he was a hiker praying for a good day up the mountains. But no, with the 100-degree heat outside, I placed my bets on him being home less, probably trying to escape the sun by ducking into the air- conditioned church.
I steeled myself to smell that odor of someone who hasn't had a shower in a long time, of clothes too-long lived in, of a life where soap wasn't an everyday item and bathrooms were truly a luxury. But the man didn't stink.
"Ah," I thought with some relief.
"He had a shower somewhere."
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But this man here, in our church, strayed from my carefully compart mentalized life. The homeless were supposed to stay away, as we drive past them in our cars, or walk by them in parks.
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