It had been another tough day at work and the commute home was travelling at such a pace, snails were mocking me for not keeping up the pace. Creeping up the parkway entrance ramp, there he sat; a homeless, dirty, unshaven man that radiated peace, and held a sign, “homeless but not hopeless.” I nodded, grunted “good evening” and drove home confused.
I am living the American dream, but maybe he knows something I don’t.
An Australian friend was visiting DC for the first time and I asked about her observations of America. She noticed a difference in how passersby treat those on the street. It is common in Australia to see all kinds of people sitting and talking with the homeless, but it is different in America.
Everyone has a story.
Everyone is unique.
Everyone has dignity.
A touch of grace and a bit of luck separate me and the guy holding the sign. Perhaps it is time to go have a conversation to understand what his story behind the well worn sign.