On Lombard & Light

I saw a homeless man on the corner of Lombard and Light with a sign that read “Homeless but still Human.” And I could not look him in the eyes.

It was late morning and I was running late on my way to the office. I glanced down at the change dish in my car, finding it empty and void of satisfaction. I wished I had a snack or something to give him, but I struck out on all acounts. And I was hoping maybe somebody else who sometimes got caught up in the empathy and feelings surrounding the lives of others would see him and offer him some change or a warm meal. There was a convenience mart across the 6 lane street, but no parking or convenient way to double back. How unfair.

I’ll forget that I’m driving or stuck in gridlock traffic when I see a sign like this, forget that I’m waiting for the light to change so I can get on to my busy life and many things that seem important but really are not. I’ll forget that I don’t normally carry cash and homeless men do not take credit cards. I’ll think that if I rode my bike into the office today, my usual way of avoiding the city hustle and bustle, I would’ve missed him completely.

His hair was long and dirty, his face solemn and his clothes disheveled with stains. Like I usually do when I see others, I wonder what his story is, and why he’s working the corner of Lombard and Light. But I don’t know his story, and yet I have seen the light and darkness in the way everyday people treat each other. I have seen better days. He has been cast into the shadows as lower class, someone forgotten and under rug swept.

I see you, human. I have no spare change today, but I have always known you were there.