Article Tools
- Text Size
- Add a comment (
- Print-Friendly
- Email this article
He was standing by the dumpster in the early morning light, a tall man with matted hair and dirty clothes that smelled of urine. I could hardly believe my eyes. “Roger, I’m so glad to see you!” I cried, throwing my arms around his neck. “Where have you been?” It seemed like a resurrection.
Once a frequent guest at Catholic Charities, where I worked, Roger had suddenly dropped out of view. Months had passed, and I had heard he was dead. But here he was, dignified and genteel as he turned down my offer of coffee because he had “other things to do.”
Even now, years later, I can hardly express how happy I was to see Roger once again. Somehow, I had come to see beyond the dirty clothes, the smell, and even the mental illness. I had caught a glimpse of Roger as a real person created in God’s image. And perhaps part of my gratitude was because I learned so much through Roger and the other homeless people I was meeting.
Stereotypes Don’t Fit. Until I was in my mid-forties, I didn’t know a single homeless person.…
The full article is available to subscribers only
Access all articles, daily meditations and readings, as well as special resources, by becoming a subscriber. View subscription options.
Special Offer: Two week free web-only trial subscription. Sign up now.
Existing Print & Web-Only Subscribers: Login for full access.
