Homeless Memorial Day

It is 1am on the longest night of the year as I sit staring at the Moon from my window .

Outside the citizens of the street are sleeping, huddled into tents and sleeping bags, cowering in stoops and trying to survive the dark.

Between now and next Thanksgiving, over a thousand of them will die.

I have socks on and flannel pajamas, and I am still cold in my heated house. My daughter has an earache and she has commandeered my bed and best blankets because “they smell nice”. I washed them yesterday morning and they are soft and sweet and warm. I don’t know when the last time some of the blankets being used in sidewalks and streets and parks were laundered.

Even if I could get in my own bed, I wouldn’t sleep. I worry about my neighbors whose lives are snuffed out because of the cold and hunger and illnesses. Folks who die at a life expectancy for people living 200 years ago.

I worry that other people don’t have compassion or the passion to help those who need it the most, and I worry that although I’ve run programs sheltering 68 people this year and housing over 80 … I worry that I’m not doing enough.

Let’s make a vow to do more next year and end this madness.

Published by Homeless

Mommy. Social worker. Nice lady seeking to end homelessness and end poverty. FightOn

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