The Homeless Person

Part of my daily job is stopping by the post office in the mornings to pick up and drop off the business mail.

The post office is a large historic building that sits right in the middle of town. The streets are full of homeless people and panhandlers.  Though I am a compassionate person, I will admit, I cant stand a pan handler. It makes me mad that people walk up to you asking for money for bus tickets or to pay there moms doctor bill. I just don't buy into that. They are flat out lying to me. Its the same ones every day. These people are walking around all day doing this, they could make themselves presentable and work if they wanted too. But that's just what I think. 

A lot of times my husband will drive me to the post office on Sunday nights to get the mail so I don't have to on Monday. The post office seems to be a safe haven for the homeless after 6:00pm. Its always open, its warm and the there are recepticals to charge their phones. However, they ruin this luxury. It never fails, we walk into some nasty stuff after hours. There is pee in the floor and poop in the corners. I have even walked up on a man masturbating in the middle of the walkway. Its scary.
I loose compassion at this point. There is always a janitor cleaning the floors come Monday morning. The city ignores the problem and you are shunned and considered a hater if you complain about it. 

It was New Years day, We had just cleaned up the dishes from my new years dinner. I had lots of left overs and we delivered a plate to Nicks brother and headed to the post office. We walked in, and lying under the the mailbox I needed to get onto, was a person curled up in a blanket playing on a small flip phone.

I honestly could not tell if it was a male or a female as his hair was long and greasy and she/he was skinny as a rail and wearing mix matched clothes. She/He did not ask for money but spoke kindly to us as we walked by. "Yall have a nice evening" she/he said. Me and Nick both nodded and said you do the same as we tried not to make eye contact. I felt sorry for this person as they have scooped so low on life. Here I was, just finished a big meal surrounded by family and this person is making a bed with a rag blanket against a mailbox. My heart broke as I called back to him "stay warm!" She/ he said "I will. Thank you!"  

When we were safely back in the car, I told Nick I wish I knew that person would be there and I could have brought him a plate of left overs. I had so many.
Sometimes I think "what if that was Jesus?".
This particular homeless person has been on my mind ever since. I would have loved to hear her/his story. What makes a person like this? No family? Drugs? Just release from jail?" Who knows. Something keeps telling me I should have shared some scripture with him. But I ignored my chance. 

I now have an idea of making some care bags filled with protein bars, Tylenol (because they have to hurt), a water, some moist wipes and a tiny Bible. I will keep them in my car in case I run into another sweet homeless person. I usually don't pay them much attention as I feel they choose this way of life. But sometimes there is that one that hits my heart.