Friday, July 27, 2012

A Helping Hand!

This photo makes me happy!
This photo makes me sad!
This photo makes me hopeful!
Hopeful because it conveys a need, trust, kindness, understanding, empathy that is always ours to give if we want-
The little dog has reached that moment of decision.
That moment when fear is put away, in exchange for trust in that extended hand, a hand that is offering some relief…
It looks like love.

Friday, July 20, 2012

What's My Name?

Photo by M Barrett Miller

Too often we see this visual on our streets!
A down and out person hoping today will be the day that his or her life changes for the better?
A poor soul holding up a crumbled piece of cardboard sharing a desperate plea for help to those that drive by on their way to whatever and wherever…
A quick look, a thanks that he or she isn’t you, a wonderment, an accusation, a rationalization, consideration of a donation, a decision, departure.
How many consider pulling over to ask the person who they are?
A polite enquiry asking them their name and what you can do to help, just a little bit, to bring a little hope into their lives. Perhaps questioning why they are on the streets in a land that swells with pride at its accidental riches.
Recognition of their value will bring light into their day.
Sure, you may be scared!
Imagine how scared you would be if the rolls were reversed and you were hugging a corner praying you weren’t-
Standing in the pouring rain tearing your mind to shreds over how you have failed your children, yourself, your family by ending up here on the streets begging for help.
You have defined failure even if your demons protect you from that reflection.
The reality may be that we have failed you-you didn’t fail us.
We have forgotten.
We have bought into questionable values.
We have accepted you as a failure to yourself.
We have forgotten.
Andrew has a name and a story as valid as any we pack around, as we dodge and weave away from joining him on a corner.
In our hopes of cocooning ourselves we look the other way so as not to be infected by those swimming along the bottom of the tank.
We have forgotten.
Floyyd has a name and a story as intricate, interesting, challenging as the driver of that luxury car that just flew by without a glance.
Laura has a name and a tale of survival, and success, that she shares with those forgetting to remember…
What’s my name?
Don’t forget me.