Dear Sir or Madame at the corner of Church and Wellesley,
We are so sorry we have failed you. We’re sorry that on this hellishly cold night, your home is an icy street corner.
In a quest for survival you have turned yourself into a living mummy, large sleeping bags cover you from head to toe. An unsettling image to say the least, a faceless mound of woollen layers that still aren’t warm enough.
No outstretched hand to ignore, no hardened eyes…
Please show us your face, please make some kind of small sign that you’re ok. Some sign that all hope is not lost, that you haven’t fallen too deep and given up on everything completely.
In an effort to offer some kind of gesture, a few people have left McFlurry ice cream. You could probably really use a warm home cooked meal, you deserve to be having one.
You deserve everything that you need. Healthy food, a warm bed and love. You deserve to be loved and taken care of.
This is our failure, what good are we if we can’t figure out a way to help one another. If we have allowed ourselves to become so accustomed to walking right by, without even taking a second glance.
We’re sorry you are suffering. Spending hours and hours on end out in this treacherous weather, when most of us can’t even handle the walk to our pre-heated cars.
Even with all the other atrocities happening in our world today, your misery matters. Your life matters. Finding a way to help you matters. It matters to me.
I searched for you the other day at the corner of Church and Wellesley, but you were nowhere to be found. Sending prayers and blessings your way, wherever you are.
Here’s hoping that life has decided to be a bit less cruel to you and that things have started moving in a better direction.
Here’s hoping that the light at the end of the big dark tunnel is shining so bright, that it fills you with strength and guides you to happiness.