A Human Touch
Time: 7:21 a.m. today.
Place: The intersection of 300 West and 200 South, one block east of The Road Home shelter, downtown Salt Lake City.
Scene: Sun just risen, stands of pink stretching across the sky. Fiftysomething man, shaggy gray beard, dirty ski cap pulled down to his eyelids, wrapped in filthy huge parka, ill-fitting shoes. In each hand, a plastic Albertson’s grocery bag, both stuffed beyond their utility. He enters the crosswalk, with the light, takes two steps. Suddenly, one of the bags breaks open. Out falls a plastic Maverik coffee mug, a pair of gloves, and assorted scraps of paper that start tumbling off in the breeze. Most certainly, it’s half of everything this man owns.
I’m behind the wheel of my car, watching. As soon as the light turns green, I think, I’ll go through the intersection, pull over, get out and help him.
Then, this: A woman crossing from the other direction scrambles after a piece of paper blowing along the asphalt. She’s dressed for work — not fancy, but sensibly, in jeans and warm jacket. She walks up to the man, touches his elbow, then bends over and scoops up the broken bag and its contents.
The light changes. I tap the gas pedal. I keep my eyes on the rear-view mirror, watching the pair for as long as I can. Last I see them, the woman is helping the man rearrange the contents of his remaining bag.
A lovely morning here in Big Utah. I wish the same for you, wherever you are.
February 21st, 2007 at 9:22 am
Holly,
I do enjoy your style of prose. Sorta like James Joyce and his stream of consciousness..”Finnegans Wake” comes to mind.
On a darker note I think the growing underclass is both a national shame and a political danger. It`s beyond my understanding that the repubs just don`t care. They must not read much about social unrest or realize the consequences..not now, but 20 years from now.
Lovely here..grass is green & the wild mustard is in bloom.
Cheers and Such !
February 21st, 2007 at 11:15 am
Holly,
I can relate to your touching story of the homeless man. Just yesterday when going to the post office in our little city of Corvallis, I saw a man crouched down by the front steps with a beautiful dog. As is typical this time of year, it was raining and the man had covered the dog partially with a jacket. They both sat under the eaves of the building as the people passed by. The man was wearing those woolen gloves with the fingers cut out and both man and dog had a sad gaze. I gave him a small donation as I walked up the steps. When I came out, to my dismay, I saw a policeman talking with the man, telling him to move on. The man did not move and when driving away, I looked back to see the cop putting cuffs on the man.
I felt awful as I drove away, admittedly as concerned about what would become of the dog. Perhaps, I thought, the man would get a meal and a place out of the rain, at least temporarily. It was the best I could do to comfort myself, a comfortable middle class matron with a nice car and warm home to go to.
I agree with chardonnay that there is a growing underclass that is a national disgrace. With the cost of healthcare and it’s ability to create bankruptcy… just to name one out of control problem…. we watch billions of dollars go down the drain in Iraq.
February 26th, 2007 at 11:05 am
This is the writing I enjoy best from you, Holly, Lyrical, inspiring even. Thanks for a shot to lift the day.
March 2nd, 2007 at 6:01 am
Sweet reminder of the humanity in our little town. Thanks Holly.