Avoid all fish hooks!

Sunday, March 17, 2013

Last night while riding home on the 6 train that I take from the Bronx where I tutor on the weekends, a man walked onto the car. His two large black garbage bags told me he was homeless. He had a white face towel around his neck giving him the appearance of a boxer who had just worked out and was returning home. He wore a short sleeved sports shirt and exercise pants. He had his routine all right, but he wasn't robotic about it as so many men and women I'd witnessed on the train, giving their automatic speech on why they needed the money they'd hope we'd kindly peel out of our purses and pockets.

"I'm homeless," he stated, "and I'm selling candy. I'm not sleeping outside tonight; I'm telling you right now. No, I'm not. So I'm selling this candy and I'm getting a room and ordering Chinese food tonight like any normal person."

He didn't tell us what caused him to fall. He didn't blame it on anyone or anything. He just offered penny candy to help him get a room. I saw dollar bills come out of pockets from tourists and residents. I wanted to give him a twenty, but I didn't have anything. So I watched him and blessed him and asked the force of love to give him everything he wanted and needed.

As I left the train, I thought of him as I walked home.

He is America, right now.

He is all of us.

A good hearted man who is not giving up.

"I'm still hopeful and in good hygiene," he stated.

He is the voice of us.

Bless us. Bless him. Let's take care of him.

US.

 Sheela Wolford is a writer, poet, and Reiki practitioner, living in Brooklyn and knowing life is not passing her by. She is writing a book about her mother and her time spent when Sheela was her hospice caregiver. Please like her on Facebook on Sheela Wolford, Sheela Wolford, Reiki Practitioner, or Sheela Wolford, Writer. Check out her website at sheelawolfordreiki.com, @sheelacheela on Twitter or clickgirl on Instagram.


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