Metro Stories at 1:30 AM

As part of my newish responsibilities at work I generally take the DC metro jn to work almost daily.

The general unreliability of the system not withstanding, I see several things that do a fairly good job of making me feel remarkably helpless and small: the sheer number of the homeless.

Two circumstances in particular are standing out tonight, where it is currently 1 AM and I have nobody else to talk to.

The first was on Friday.

Almost every week coming home in the evenings I come across this one gentleman.  He's short and inevitably hunched over something.  Has to be an older gentleman, can't tell if it's due to age or circumstances.  Regardless, he's there week in and week out with his santa hat wishing everybody a merry Christmas, and a happy new year.  Not only that, but he also kept proclaiming that "God is good".

Judging by his voice and speech patterns, it seemed as if he may have been mildly retarded.  That is of course no ckmmentary Kn any of what he was saying, but new years in July was a little far-fetched.

Normally I don't carry cash on me during the week, but that day I had a buck, so I gave it to him.  Passed him who knows how many times and I was finally able to give him something.

The second was a couple of weeks ago.  I was heading in to a station downtown and passed by them without realizing what was going on.  Mother and two children. Oldest sitting on the floor by mom, but not too close.  Youngest can't have been more than one plus change and still in a stroller.

And I couldn't do anything about it.  More importantly, I didn't.  And I so, so wish I had.  I have not been able to get that image out of my head and it almost brings me to tears.  That's not the life a young family should be forced to deal with.  Lisa and I help adopt some families during the holidays, but it's not enough.  I regret every moment since I passed them and didn't offer to help, or buy a meal, or give some change, or anything.

I felt powerless to help these people.  From a position of which I have, I should be able to do more.  I think I need to.  Because I can't possibly see children like that in person.  I'm not strong enough, and I don't want to be.  I hope one day I can, because those kids didn't do anything wrong.  They don't deserve this, and I need to believe that what small things I do make a difference.

I don't want to think of the alternatives.  Everytime I do, I close my eyes and look at those kids.  I look at Nikhil and just break all over again.