Look into the Future

Many of the homeless I see on the streets sleep under bridges, hang out in abandoned buildings, or camp in little clumps of woods. Where my friends live makes it hard for me to find them sometimes. When I was younger, I could venture into abandoned grain elevators and slippery caves to search for folks who had no permanent address. Now, my body is older and I can’t do it like I used to; but hopefully, I do it wiser. At least, I don’t go into dark and scary places anymore. And I always carry a monocular with me, so I can look into the future.

If you have a monocular with you at a baseball game, you can watch the play at first without having to wait to see the replay on the big screen. If you have a monocular with you when you go bird watching, you can be first on the spot with your pocket-sized scope. And, if you have a monocular with you when you are searching for the homeless, you can look into the future, but only about a hundred yards or so.

When I’m driving down West River Road looking for my homeless friends, I can stop, pull out my compact scope, and explore the woods on the opposite bank without having to hike a precarious slope. As I’m waiting out a red light at the corner, I can look to the crew hanging out blocks ahead, and grab a few lunches for a Stop and Drop before the light even turns green. If I’m out exploring the tracks south of the North Town Yard, I can investigate the cloud of dust approaching and duck out of sight before the bull gets to investigate me.

Today, I drove down under the span of bridges on the edge of town. I parked in the shade where I would be cool and somewhat concealed. I could see that there was a group of friends assembled in The Living Room about a hundred yards away. The Living Room is an out-of-sight, out-of-mind spot where the homeless gather to pass the time. It’s also a ‘first-come, first-served’ place where you don’t belong unless you have been invited.

I wasn’t invited to visit the folks in The Living Room today; I wasn’t on my regular route of scheduled stops. But there I sat, parked in the shade only a hundred yards away with a van full of food, and a heart full of feelings. So I pulled out my scope, and I took a look into the future.

I could see from a distance that my friends were busy, but it looked like no business of mine. I could see that my friends could see me, but no one got up to eat, or to come and say hello. I could see that the peace pipe was being passed among my friends, and I couldn’t see what kind of piece was in the pipe; I passed.

I quietly said a prayer for each of my homeless friends, and I slowly drove away.

Who was it that I scoped out today? I don’t remember. With my scope, I can look into the future, but I can not look into the past.

So, who will it be that I see tomorrow? I have no idea. With my scope, I can see into the future, but only about a hundred yards at a time.

Now is the time to say a prayer. A prayer is a look a whole lot farther into the future than can ever been seen with a scope.

Sorry, Georgia

As new pioneers, explorers of the uncharted world that is homelessness, we hope to see you build a team of members whose soul purpose is to reach out to those who live with no permanent address. Each and everyday, old and young alike face the challenges inherent with being homeless. It takes a dedicated, never-ending effort to help the sick, the sorry, the sad.

Considering all the plans and programs designed and implemented to ‘end homelessness’ to date, the headlines should read “PROBLEM SOLVED … Ten Years Ago.” Instead, we read today from Las Vegas, “City marshals … against homeless”.

"Last week, (Las Vegas City Mayor) Goodman said he wanted to force a (any) homeless person who didn't want to be helped to get services (hospitalized, institutionalized or incarcerated). The individual would serve as a 'test case' for the system."

Sorry, Georgia; there is no Santa Claus to bring the homeless a home in Vegas, or anywhere else. But the Grinches abound, everywhere; even among the homeless community. One such Grinch is certainly Crazy About Las Vegas. Concerning the controversial plan that allows ‘expert’ public servants to forcibly remove the homeless from the streets, he writes …

"I am very glad for this law, because there are some seriously mentally ill folks on the streets who desperately need to be hospitalized. And leaving them to wander the streets, unable to fend for themselves, is a worse evil than incarcerating them. And it is folks like these, and the perpetually intoxicated homeless, who give the label "homeless" such a negative connotation."

You would think that a perpetually homeless person would understand that bigoted, stereotypical ‘connotations’ only serve to keep the homeless, the poor and the disabled down in the gutters of society. Sweeping the streets and putting the homeless behind bars, especially as a 'test case', is a crule and unusual experiment that will do more harm than good. What the homeless really need is a helping hand up and out of their misery; even if only for a moment, or a day, at a time.

Georgia and friends: Never give up hope! There will come a day when the poor of this world will inherit the Kingdom they are promised; and they will be homeless no more.

"Now is the time for all goodmen (including the Governor of Vegas) to come to the aid of their countrymen, especially, their vulnerable and disabled countrymen."

The Cost of Compassion

The outreach organization that I volunteer for has no paid staff, no office rent to pay, and no fundraising expenses. All of the money they receive goes to provide food, fellowship and emergency services to the homeless, the poor, the elderly and the disabled.

While prices for goods and services continue to rise for everyone, the biggest expense HOPE of Minnesota incurs is for vehicle maintenance and fuel. The most difficult expense for the organization to cover is for gasoline; the price of gas has tripled since I began volunteering in 1997.

Wondering what the homeless perspective is on the high cost of gasoline? Check this out.





Remember us in your prayers!

Don't Give Money to Beggars

In my searching the internet regarding the homeless, I find a lot of comments about people that panhandle or sign for money. It appears the consensus is; don’t give money to beggars.

I understand that this is a ‘money world’ for a majority of folks, especially for city folks. And for city folks, homeless or not, the most popular ways to get money are employment, welfare, or ‘operating’. In the homeless community, ‘operating’ is scheming, scamming, or shamming for money, drugs or whatever else is on the ‘needs’ list.

It’s disappointing that many of the bloggers who criticize panhandlers and signers spend a lot of their own time writing about ‘Me’, ‘My’, and ‘Mo' (as in Mo’ Money). Look at there sites, and you often find itsy bitsy ‘signs’ begging for your donations (paypal buttons). In my book, ‘operating’ is ‘OPERATING’, no matter where you wake your ass up in the morning.

Hey, honest is as honest does. And if people can’t find you honest, they ought to at least find you funny; funny like my friend, Terrible T.

Plant Sale Today!

If you drive west of the Twin Cities on Highway 5, you go through Waconia, a used-to-be-small town that still boasts of a ‘farm store’ selling feed and seed and chicks. If you don’t know ‘chicks’, read a book about livestock; some people still get eggs every morning from a coop.

As you pass through town, you’ll notice a hand-painted sign nailed to a telephone pole announcing ‘Plant Sale Today’. An arrow points up into the old-home neighborhood just off the highway. When I first saw that sign years ago, I figured some old geezer must be selling hostas out of his garage. I was wrong; partly.

One day, I followed the arrows to a quaint little home with a driveway full of colorful flowers and plants. There, I met the lady of the house. I learned that she works for a garden nursery, and with permission from her boss she rescues pots and plants that have been thrown away. She brings the plants new life behind her house, and only puts them out in her driveway when they are at the peak of flowering perfection. She sells the packs and pots of plants, and donates all of the proceeds to a Christian mission effort across the globe.

From the day I met The Plant Lady, I knew I had made a dear friend. She always had a moment to talk when I stopped by, and she always offered me a motherly hug. This past spring, I heard she had died. I was devastated. I lost my mother only years ago; I wasn’t ready to face the news of loosing another close friend.

Today, I drove by The Plant Lady’s house and saw her busy at work feeding and watering the bed of flowers in her driveway. I was elated. I stopped my van in the middle of the street and ran to say hello. We hugged and laughed and hugged some more, just like family.

The Plant Lady knows what I do with most of my time, feeding the homeless in The Cities. And she always has a moment to ask me how my friends are getting along. Today, she made a list of things that the homeless need so her friends can ‘garage sale shop’ for boots, backpacks, coats and the like. When I leave, she makes sure I take plants for my friends, and she won’t let me pay for a thing.

The Plant Lady has an enthusiasm for giving and a passion for life that rubs off with every hug she shares. Her smile is as genuine and comforting as the land surrounding her town used to be.

Progress and development are eating away the countryside of life that used to flourish here. But there’s nothing in this world that will ever take away the love and friendship The Plant Lady puts into every flowering pot.

If you ever drive through Waconia, look for the sign on the north side of the highway that reads, “Plant Sale Today”. And then follow the arrows up the hill to the driveway full of flowers, and The Plant Lady full of love.

Feeling Just Fabulous

I spend as much time as I can on the streets, looking for my friends who are homeless. I wonder if they are hungry or out of water or maybe they just need a friend. So, I go out and try to find them.

Some days, it’s tough finding anybody around unless I’m willing to go around tough places. I’m often feeding on the streets alone, so I don’t put myself in mortal danger; at least, not on purpose, if I can help it. Still, I’ve managed to get punched; pounded to the ground; threatened with a shotgun; and bonked on the head from behind. And I keep on searching for my friends, sometimes in places I have no business being. I can’t help it; I do it because I get high.

We do things, and continue to do those same things whether it’s good for us or not, because doing those things gets us high. You don’t have to be a rocket scientist to know that opiate-like drugs are naturally released in our brains when we do something, learn something, or achieve something that brings us pleasure; being a neuroscientist helps.

Recently, neuroscientists from the University of Southern California have proposed a simple theory that the ‘click’ of comprehension triggers the release of natural opiate-like substances in the brain. The concept is the brain is getting its fix every time we ‘get it’.

“While you're trying to understand a difficult theorem, it's not fun," says Irving Biederman, professor of neuroscience in the USC College of Letters, Arts and Sciences.

"But once you get it, you just feel fabulous."

You can read all about it here; 'Thirst for knowledge' may be opium craving. But I hope you 'get it' in your everyday life.

We all know that homelessness is a problem in society. We understand that there is a lack of affordable housing and chronic unemployment. Everyday, we see addiction and mental illness and handicaps that cause untold suffering and sickness. Most of us really do want to help ease pain and misery when we see it happening to the poor and the vulnerable.

For me, the plight of the homeless is a ‘difficult theorem’, a challenging truth. It’s a complicated problem, but it has a simple answer. It’s all about loving our neighbors as we love ourselves.

Granted, I don’t practice that truth perfectly. And often, its no fun. But I get it ... and I feel just fabulous.

Another Perfect Day!

After a brief rain this morning, it turned into a beautiful day. With low humidity and mild temperatures … a clean, fresh breeze from the north … blue sky with puffs of clouds overhead … this is why we live in Minnesota. Whether we spend the day alone in thought, or with company in chaos; it just doesn’t get any better than this.

The forecast calls for a few more days like today, but without rain. Nights are supposed to be clear and crisp. This is perfect sleeping weather. It’s hard to believe that anybody would gripe about having to sleep out in weather like this. But then again, when I think about the dark … the dangers … all those bugs!

I walked into a vacant camp this afternoon and came across some personal belongs left by a homeless friend.

I wonder which came first … the sign, or the handbook.

I wonder if either was an answer to prayers.