Sitting on the subway and a
homeless person walks on. Actually, two homeless people- no, three, four, five,
six…….a whole subway car filled with homeless people.
And me.
It smells. Some smell really bad
and some not at all. Some are asking for money and then they start to realize
that everyone else is homeless so they can’t give each other money but start to
discuss how they have , or have not, made money on the subway, or sidewalk or
stairs leading out of the subway station or stairs going down into a subway
station. They all start to talk to each
other and trade stories and trade sandwiches and trade ideas.
One guy who is particularly well
dressed starts talking about how overcrowded the city shelter system is. I do a
double- take because he is really well dressed. He has one of those fancy navy
blue, J. Crew pea coats with horn toggle buttons and clean suede loafers.
Really fancy, like Cole-Haan’s, with pink rubbery soles. His hair is well groomed as is his complexion
and he is wearing very stylish glasses.
Very snazzy.
I ask myself, “is he really
homeless? He is very well spoken.” And then I stop myself and realize that I am
judging, or misjudging, this man on his homeless status based on his good
grooming and spiffy attire.
This is unfair of me.
Then a little girl gets on with her
mom. She is about 5 and is super cute. She has something like 2 pieces of
electrical tape on her sweatshirt and it looks like the letter T or t. Then she
moves it around and it looks like an x. I am sort of impressed that her mom
came up with this innovative sticker concept. The kid is adorable and is
happily bobbing up and down while she rearranges the sticker/tape to make other
designs. Very clever, I think to myself.
The tape is blue and durable.
Then the kids’ mom says aloud,
“Hello. I am sorry to bother
everyone today. You see, I am homeless and my daughter and I are just trying to
get something to eat or find a place to sleep. If you can find it in your heart
to give us anything, a sandwich, a dime, a smile, we would be so grateful. And if you cannot give anything, god- bless
you and thank you.
Have a nice day.”
So, I am stunned because this
really sweet little girl -only a few feet away from me- is smiling and bobbing
up and down while her mother is giving this awful speech about the state of
their lives. The girl could hear everything her mom said and I imagine that she
has already heard the same speech several times already today, at least.
Then I think, is this an act? Does
she coach the kid into acting adorable to make more money? Then I stop myself
because that feels like a deeply disturbing thought to have, even for a jaded
New Yorker who rides the subway a lot and has seen a lot of homeless people.
Today there just seem to be quite a
few more than usual, and of course this is distressing.
So, I open my wallet and take out a
dollar and give it to the mom. She doesn’t thank me (which has been the case
with many homeless people I have given money to) and I try not to judge her for
not being grateful that I opened my Longchamp bag and gave her a dollar
bill. However, she does look at me
squarely in the eye and I see that her eyes look lifeless, dead. She is large
and her hair is messy. She isn’t nearly as pretty as her daughter and I wonder
for a moment if, in fact, it is her actual daughter or if this is, as mentioned
earlier, an act.
I decide to not overthink it and I
don’t even care how she uses the dollar.
It’s none of my business.
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