It takes a lot of courage to release the familiar and seemingly secure, to embrace the new.
But there is no real security in what is no longer meaningful.
There is more security in the adventurous and exciting, for in movement there is life, and in change there is power.
Alan Cohen
"Outside of a dog, a book is a man's best friend.
Inside of a dog, it's too dark to read."
Groucho Marx
The doors we open and close each day decide the lives we live.

Thursday, February 21, 2013

Small Things That Lift The Heart

One of the sad things that one sees in any large city with millions of people, is the homeless.
I am sure all cities in the world have their share, where we live there are a series of huge parks, with benches and trees and people who sleep on the benches and pretty much, live there.

At night no one is allowed to stay in the parks and we think that everyone goes to shelters somewhere.
There is an old frail, incredibly wrinkled old woman who sleeps on a bench or just sits with the pigeons all day, in the park, but at night she packs up her things and walks out of the neighborhood.

The next day, we often pass her on the sidewalk, with her belongings, all neat and clean and on her way back to her bench in the park.

Some people resist the feeding and washing and care.
They are the ones who really need more, they need medical help, mental help.
They are the ones we sometimes steer clear of, avoid any eye contact with and hope that something doesn't send him into a rage as we pass by.
And then there are those who just break your heart.
The quiet ones who sit in their spot and wear whatever it is they have , and they don't move, they don't make a sound, they just sit there.

There is one such man who has always been around our parks since we moved here.
He is actually handsome, his face is good, he has wonderful bones, he could have been a movie star.
His hair is about shoulder length and jet black and thick and although we always saw him dusty and unwashed, he has a dignity about him that few of the street people have .
We used to feel so bad, seeing him wrapped in garbage bags, sleeping in the grass, winter or summer.

Today we had some things we had to do and as we hurried along the sidewalk, talking about this and that, we realised that we were walking behind this man.
Except he was different.
He was all washed up and clean and dressed normally and even had on what looked like Keds.
His hair was clean and luxuriously long and wavy and we could see how really handsome he is, all clean and healthy looking.

As we passed him, we heard it.
He was humming.

We walked on and my husband said to me, "Hearing him humming makes me so happy" ...

It is the small things .. small to one person, huge to someone else ~


  1. What a beautiful blog. Glad I found you.

  2. Thank you, Jennifer ! I am glad you found me too :)

  3. This is uplifting. :) There are many homeless here in Portland. My heart goes out to so many of them. Others frighten me, though i feel awful admitting that. I wonder what the stories are behind their homelessness. I know many of them are in their situation because of mental illness, but not all... It makes me profoundly sad..

  4. Mary, thank you. When we lived in Portland, we were befriended by a few homeless people who loved our dog . He made friends wherever he went and this was no exception. One lady had a tiny dog of her own. When we left, I gave her bags of clothes and things for the dog :)
    It is a sad fact of life everywhere, the homeless. Such a terrible word .. homeless.


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