Homeless Is Where The Heart Is, Part 9
(I discover that a homeless man sleeps on the front steps of my house in San Francisco. I feel bad for him, so I always try to give him some of my breakfast before I leave for work. One day, my neighbor sees me doing this.)
Neighbor: *shrieking* “What are you doing!?”
Me: “Sorry…?”
Neighbor: “Don’t feed the stupid bum!”
Me: “Oh, well, I just thought that he looked like he may need a little help; he doesn’t bother anyone, so I was just giving him some extra food.”
Neighbor: “He’s a stupid high-school dropout who drools on your cats!”
Me: “What?”
Homeless Man: “Well, I actually don’t have a home because I can barely make enough money to put myself through school and have a home. Having a daily meal from [My Name] is really helpful. And… I have no idea about that drooling on cats part.”
Neighbor: “Bum!” *stomps into her house*
Me: “Okay, well, enjoy the meal; I hope it all gets better soon!”
Homeless Man: “Thanks for everything!”
(A few months later, he informed me he had found a new job, and he told me a little later that he was on a steady paycheck and had enough money to get a small apartment. A few days later, he thanked me for the meals and went on his way. I hope wherever he is, he’s proving my old neighbor wrong.)
Question of the Week
What is the most wholesome experience you’ve ever had?