The holidays are usually a special time for everyone. It is a time to spend with family giving, and receiving gifts. It is a time to get the family together, and share stories, and have good times. It is time to be thankful for all the things we have including a place to sleep, eat, shower, and etc. I think sometimes all this is taken for granted.
I want to share a special holiday message today. I work at a local grocery store doing just about anything my boss thinks my job description entails. I sometimes grumble under my breath at some job tasks, but I am constantly reminded that I make pretty good money for not going to college. I even share my unhappiness with customers, and they always tell me the same thing that I should be thankful I have the job I do, and many people these days would love to have my job.
Is that the American way? Do we really not realize how good we have it? I look around every day, and realize I deal with hundreds of customers a day who are way worse off than me, but for some reason I feel like I need to complain about how underpaid, and unappreciated I feel.
I received my wake up call a few days ago. I deal with many homeless people every day. They are either returning cans, or buying some beer. I have always wondered what life must be like for these guys every day. Is it any different for them? We go to work to pay for fancy cars, homes, and other stuff. They go to work collecting cans to buy food, and beer. Is there really a difference?
Anyways I usually end up getting to know most of the homeless people at my store. I know most by their names. I don't think I know one homeless persons story on how they ended up there. Is it rude to ask? Would they actually sit down, and share their story if I asked? I actually find it very intriguing, and would love to see how they all ended up on the streets.
This leads me to Dennis Baxter. He was a homeless person who frequented our store several times a day. Almost every cashier knows who he was. He was the homeless guy that always would came in with some kind of crazy hat. One day it is a hat with a bunch of feathers, the next day a hat with a bunch of balloons, or whatever he decided to wear that day.
He told me where he lived. He lived under a bridge very near to the store. I actually passed it every day going, and leaving work every day. I would always take a quick glance over. I was always curious to see if he was there.
Did he have a fire going? Why did he have a huge british flag hanging up? What did he think about when he sat in the lawn chair? How did he stay warm? What did he do to kill time? Was he scared ever? There are so many questions.
A few days ago when I was on my break someone broke me the news that he died the day before. I remember seeing him wrapped up the night before when I drove home from work. Was he alive, or was he already dead?
Was it coincidence or what that just a few days prior I felt the urge to take him some warm clothes, and a blanket? You know how bad I feel right now knowing that? Could of me taking him that saved his life? I now drive by that bridge with it empty. All of his things are now gone.
It is just amazing to me that a homeless man has impacted me this way. Do you think he knew how many lives he touched every day? I am going to miss the guy, and he has prompted me to do something very special this holiday.
On Saturday I plan on taking one homeless person a special care package. I am taking some warm blankets, and a few other things I think a homeless person would appreciate.
I want to share a special holiday message today. I work at a local grocery store doing just about anything my boss thinks my job description entails. I sometimes grumble under my breath at some job tasks, but I am constantly reminded that I make pretty good money for not going to college. I even share my unhappiness with customers, and they always tell me the same thing that I should be thankful I have the job I do, and many people these days would love to have my job.
Is that the American way? Do we really not realize how good we have it? I look around every day, and realize I deal with hundreds of customers a day who are way worse off than me, but for some reason I feel like I need to complain about how underpaid, and unappreciated I feel.
I received my wake up call a few days ago. I deal with many homeless people every day. They are either returning cans, or buying some beer. I have always wondered what life must be like for these guys every day. Is it any different for them? We go to work to pay for fancy cars, homes, and other stuff. They go to work collecting cans to buy food, and beer. Is there really a difference?
Anyways I usually end up getting to know most of the homeless people at my store. I know most by their names. I don't think I know one homeless persons story on how they ended up there. Is it rude to ask? Would they actually sit down, and share their story if I asked? I actually find it very intriguing, and would love to see how they all ended up on the streets.
This leads me to Dennis Baxter. He was a homeless person who frequented our store several times a day. Almost every cashier knows who he was. He was the homeless guy that always would came in with some kind of crazy hat. One day it is a hat with a bunch of feathers, the next day a hat with a bunch of balloons, or whatever he decided to wear that day.
He told me where he lived. He lived under a bridge very near to the store. I actually passed it every day going, and leaving work every day. I would always take a quick glance over. I was always curious to see if he was there.
Did he have a fire going? Why did he have a huge british flag hanging up? What did he think about when he sat in the lawn chair? How did he stay warm? What did he do to kill time? Was he scared ever? There are so many questions.
A few days ago when I was on my break someone broke me the news that he died the day before. I remember seeing him wrapped up the night before when I drove home from work. Was he alive, or was he already dead?
Was it coincidence or what that just a few days prior I felt the urge to take him some warm clothes, and a blanket? You know how bad I feel right now knowing that? Could of me taking him that saved his life? I now drive by that bridge with it empty. All of his things are now gone.
It is just amazing to me that a homeless man has impacted me this way. Do you think he knew how many lives he touched every day? I am going to miss the guy, and he has prompted me to do something very special this holiday.
On Saturday I plan on taking one homeless person a special care package. I am taking some warm blankets, and a few other things I think a homeless person would appreciate.
