“Homeless For Christmas”

by  Bonnie Briggs

Published: June 25, 2009

All alone he sat, on the sidewalk cold,
Ragged coat, beaten hat, stooped over, looking old.
He asked for change for a coffee and a smoke,
Of all the people passing by, who thought him just a joke.
He was just another homeless guy, another bum on the street,
On the street, he’ll probably die, right at the Christmas shoppers’ feet.
It’s the time of good will to men, when, for all, we’re supposed to care. We hear that time and time again. Why then was he still there? On the dirty side of town, Where does this man go? On his sodden way down?
Nobody knows about his past, nobody knows his sad story. Why has he gone down so fast? All the way to ruin from glory.
I came upon him on the street and put five dollars in his hat,
Right about then, we began to talk, I joined him where he sat.
“Do you have a smoke?” he asked as I sat down,
Soon he was enjoying his smoke, there on the dirty side of town.
He told me the story of his life, about the trail of abuse and neglect. How his soul “died” when he lost his wife, how his family he began to reject.
He finally hit rock bottom. He had nowhere else to go.
Where the booze had finally got him, what then? He didn’t know.
I said, “I know how you feel, helpless and alone.”
“You need a bed and a hot meal, and someplace to call home.”
“I’ll send you to a friend of mine, he’ll help you on your way,”
“And the bus fare I will lend, you go and see him today.”
“He runs the South-Side Mission, on the other side of town,”
“You talk to him, he’ll listen. Get him to show you around.”
I gave him the change for the bus and heartily shook his hand,
I thought, “He’s the same as one of us, throughout this great big land.”
As I watched him go down the street, I wondered to myself, “will he come back?; Will we ever again meet, on the better side of the tracks?”
I realized it was getting late, I had to get to a Christmas Party,
I hurried to make my appointed date, for eggnog and turkey hearty.
As I hurried on through the snow, I wondered to myself,
“Where does all our compassion go? Is it put upon the shelf?”
At this Christmas time of year,
Let us think of those who are with us all the year.
The homeless, the hungry, the destitute, who live on our streets each day. Let us show them a better route, where they can find their way.
It’s Christmas time, Do you care? Will you help another one?
Come on people, show you care. Do what the Master would have done.
Just think, if that was you, sitting on the sidewalk cold,
Wouldn’t you want some help too? Or would you rather die in the cold?

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