© Jairus Reflections
I am
a college girl.
I
walk to class every day to save up for my (soon-to-be) Michael Kors tote bag. It’s tempting to hop on the public bus –
especially since the weather hasn’t been very kind – but no! Every penny
counts.
The
wind is cruel. My ears hurt. My fingers are numb. But it’s okay. Michael Kors, Michael Kors, Michael Kors…
“Spare
change, please.” A homeless man. I feel sorry for him but then again, it’s
probably his own fault. My mother always tells me to study hard, lest I become
like the beggars on the streets.
He
looks pitiful. I should help. Ah, but I need the money. Every penny counts.
I’m
just a college girl; the businessman behind me would probably help.
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I am
a homeless man.
During
the harshest days of winter, I think that it may be my last day on earth. When
night falls, I cuddle up into the sleeping bag that some kind soul gave me
years ago. The night is never-ending. But I persevere, and I somehow, somehow make it through.
Despite
having done this for years, asking for spare change is still the most difficult
thing to do. I never dare to look
into the eye of my donor. “Thank you.” I would say, with my head bowed, and my
heart stabbed by immense shame.
“Get
a job!” They always say. I’ve tried. I’ve tried for years. No one wants to hire
a man in torn and tattered clothes. I wouldn’t be here if someone wanted to
hire me.
I’m a
pathetic, shameful and hopeless man.
Someone, please help me.
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