I have a strong sense of smell. That's why I almost always gag when I ride public transportation. This summer when I rode BART everyday I held perfumed paper up to my nose the entire time. And I won't go to the gym when it's crowded cuz the sweat smell is too overpowering.
So, needless to say, my volunteer activities of choice are not with the homeless. I like kids, I like hospitals, I even like prisoners. But the homeless...I just can't do it. The smell. (Aside: I heard that rubbing Vick's Vapor Rub under your nose can really help with that--that's what coroners do--but I have yet to try it.)
But sometimes the homeless come to you.
Last night, I was having a nice bible study at my house with 10 friends or so and one of them announces suddenly: I met a homeless man last week and I invited him to come here. He's on his way now!
Well, the group was thrilled. "Great!" "Tell him there's cupcakes!" "We're glad he's coming!"
I was less than thrilled. Who is this guy? Does he have mental issues? Is he going to talk and shout erratically and be covered in the dirt and grime of the streets? (I pictured Pig Pen frm Charlie Brown and comforted myself by reasoning that in the cold winter clime, no fleas could survive, right?)
And the smell...Oh, the smell...the overpowering, stays-in-your-sofa-fabric, can't-get-it-out-with-Febreeze smell.
The man came, he scarfed down some cupcakes, he stayed and prayed with us for about an hour, and then he left.
The smell stayed.
Now, lest anyone misunderstand, let me just say that I do feel compassion for this guy. He's homeless in the middle of winter, enough said.
But there is a time and a place for things. There are avenues of help for the homeless, like a shelter or the deacon committee. They are trained to know how to help this man with his many material and mental needs.
We were just a group of clueless yuppies who didn't know how to help.
Or maybe that's just how I try to justify things to myself. A better person would've helped him to get shelter, get food, etc. Stayed with him until it was apparent that he was going to be ok for a while.
I'd like to think that is someone else's job. The deacon committee's job. The professionals. The ones trained to help. Specialization, it's the rage.
And while it's imprudent to treat the homeless like they are just scruffier versions of ourselves (most of them have serious mental issues--how else could they have burned through all their social capital)...I was shaken out of my complacency.
I'm going to be thinking about this incident for a few days. Wondering, considering, confessing, and repenting.
2 comments:
I understand how you feel. I have the same elephantitis of the sense of smell. But as far as the other issue goes, I think sometimes homeless people (just like everyone else) just want to feel like someone cares about them, or at least sees them as people, not animals. I think it's good you shared the cupcakes and ministered to this man in this way!
As a side note, I went to a training for a ministry for homeless in Boston and we did an exercise where we listed three things on cards that are keeping us from homelessness (mine were something like family; education; and something else...). Then we had them taken away one by one, and had to talk about what our lives would look like. It's actually pretty frightening to see how close we all are. And it makes you look at those people who've lost all their cards a little differently.
Great thought provoking post, Alice!
Dearest Alice, I agree with Portia - on everything.
I love your honesty, and how you tend to say things that the rest of us are probably thinking from time to time. I think we ALL need God's grace and help in extending real compassion and love ... only God can give us HIS love to share. I'll be praying for you - and for me too! - in this matter and all similar... thanks for sharing! :D I love you!
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