When I looked up I saw him
sitting on my doorstep, his bare feet facing
me. He shivered dreadfully in the cold evening wind. "Sorry," he said,
"I must have fallen asleep by your door. I was just trying to shelter
myself from the wind. I'll go now."
I started through my doorway with guilt nudging at my heart. "Wait," I
called. "I'll get you some warm socks." I closed the door and ran to my
cozy bedroom where I rooted through my bureau drawers until I found a pair
of heavy wool socks. Rushing back to the door I wondered where he would
go. "I can't let him inside," I thought, "because I'm here by myself and
it wouldn't be safe."
On reaching the doorway I passed him the socks and he smiled in
appreciation. Once he was gone I could not content myself. I was not
used to this city life and all the homeless people I faced on my way to
work each day. Why just yesterday I had seen a young boy of about fifteen
sleeping in the subway. I wanted to take him home with me.
Then there is
the man with the tattered brown hat that I meet every morning as I walk to
the café for work. I never carry any change on me, so I have nothing to
give him but a smile and a greeting when he asks for change. He really
shocked me one morning as he stood in front of me and said, "Miss, you
know, you're the only one who ever smiles at me, you really make my day."
I was speechless! I walked away with tears streaming down my cheeks and a
lump in my throat.
Where I grew up in the country, the natural thing is to help your
neighbor, so you wouldn't see homeless people like I do here, at
least not
that I ever noticed. I do remember my father driving travelers home from
town, but before he would deliver them to their home he would bring them
to our house for supper. I smile today as I think of the large wad of gum
that would be set upon the plate and then returned to the mouth of a
traveler after the meal was enjoyed. I guess life was different then, but
I still find myself thinking of those bare feet on my doorstep and I
wonder where they are finding warmth and shelter today.
sips up the final
traces of snow that
veil the moist earth,
thus uncovering the sparse remnants of winter. Initially, lifelessness
masks the fruitless
fields that are spread out before me like unbuttered bread, while recently
fallen trees
speak of the sting of winter. The broken limbs leave empty spaces on
nearby trees and
remind me of loved ones who died during the winter months and my spirit
calls out to
comfort family and friends who have experienced the upheaval of such
losses. Suddenly
the brook beside me bounds to life with the resonant sound of rushing
water, a creative
reminder of the joyous new life of spring. Above me a flock of migrating
robins sweeps
low before descending to dress the barren fields with their beauty and I
mysteriously find
myself bathed with a sense of serenity.