The Homeless Need Our Love Too

My experience with the homeless has reminded me of our common humanity.

Photo by Matt Collamer on Unsplash

I generally see the same homeless people every day when I go into my local town center in Carlisle, England. More often than not they are walking somewhere rather than sitting and begging for money as you might, stereotypically, expect. They walk with urgency, focus, and direction — as if they are trying to complete a mission on which their life depends. It was only after I got the opportunity to sit down and talk to one of these homeless folk that I found out what this mission was exactly. A revelation that brought a sense of sadness to me that persists to this day.

I was sitting on a bench outside of my local grocery store, smoking a cigarette, when Ben, a thirty-something guy wearing a tattered tracksuit fraying at the edges, approached me nervously and, almost whispering, asked: “Have you got a spare cigarette?”. I happily obliged and he took a seat next to me on the bench.

I recognized Ben as one of the many homeless people that I have seen frequenting the local town, one of those who are always walking somewhere. Over the course of our conversation, I found out that Ben had been homeless for ten years and that he didn’t foresee things changing for him anytime soon. Why? Because he was a drug addict, a heroin addict…