Friday, January 8, 2010
My son is out there
A few years ago, I received a note in the mail that had accompanied a donation to Wheeler Mission. It read simply, “my son is out there.” I sensed the incredible pain and desperation of that mother. Her words made me stop in my tracks. Unknowingly, she had given me the most accurate definition of a homeless person I have yet to read.
Who are the homeless? They are someone’s son. Someone’s mother, brother, or father.
A few years ago, a woman came to stay at our Center. She had been living in her car for a week, and hoped to somehow find a safe and comfortable place to sleep for a night. She had no intention of staying long, or enrolling in a program. Her 30-year alcohol addiction had brought her to this place, yet she felt no need to seek help beyond finding a bed.
It wasn’t until a staff member encouraged her to think about a new way of living that it dawned on her – there is hope left in this world. She entered our long term addiction recovery program and has been sober for almost seven years.
She now holds down a job, is active in the community, and has a lifestyle of helping others. She has experienced reconciliation with her family who thought they had lost her forever to alcohol. Yes, she is someone’s daughter, and they are thrilled to have her back in their lives.
So the next time you see a homeless person on the street, remember the mother’s definition - that homeless person is someone’s child.
Rick
Who are the homeless? They are someone’s son. Someone’s mother, brother, or father.
A few years ago, a woman came to stay at our Center. She had been living in her car for a week, and hoped to somehow find a safe and comfortable place to sleep for a night. She had no intention of staying long, or enrolling in a program. Her 30-year alcohol addiction had brought her to this place, yet she felt no need to seek help beyond finding a bed.
It wasn’t until a staff member encouraged her to think about a new way of living that it dawned on her – there is hope left in this world. She entered our long term addiction recovery program and has been sober for almost seven years.
She now holds down a job, is active in the community, and has a lifestyle of helping others. She has experienced reconciliation with her family who thought they had lost her forever to alcohol. Yes, she is someone’s daughter, and they are thrilled to have her back in their lives.
So the next time you see a homeless person on the street, remember the mother’s definition - that homeless person is someone’s child.
Rick
