Ugly City, Ugly Street

This morning I saw something ugly. I was standing in front of the Walgreens on North Michigan Avenue waiting for it to open when this homeless man (equipped with dirty white t-shirt, rumpled pants, unlaced shoes, and packed plastic bags) walked up to the garbage can a few feet away. At that moment, I and the man who was waiting with me both turned our heads so quickly like we were two puppets on the same string. At that moment, we were both a part of the harsh reality of this man’s life—a life of walking down streets digging in garbage cans for food.

Minutes before Mr. Homeless entered our worlds, I watched the man [waiting with me] impatiently check his watch because it was 6:59 a.m. and the store opened at 7:00 a.m. Minutes after Mr. Homeless entered our worlds, I remembered how—as the man was impatiently checking the time, I was thinking about shopping for shoes after work. We were both caught up in our own worlds of important things that mattered to us, but why did we look away? Why couldn’t we face this ugly thing that was in front of us so clearly?

I guess in some way Mr. Homeless could sense our uneasiness because instead of digging for food in the garbage, he dug in one of the bags for a skinny white women’s belt to put on. Even as a stranger to our worlds, Mr. Homeless was sensitive to our inability to experience a moment in his shoes without second-guessing the trivial things that made us impatient and/or happy a few minutes earlier. He wanted us to enjoy our happy-wednesday without having to reflect on the goodness of God’s tender mercies of not being so low that we needed the dirty leftovers of others to live. Sometimes I say we, but I’m also guilty of turning my head to ugly things in life like homelessness. In a way, I know it exists but I don’t want it to touch my world because I can’t change it. When I walk to work some mornings and see others like Mr. Homeless tucked in the hidden corners of a city that’s still asleep, I wish whatever situation that got them to slumbering in Grant Park could be reversed. I wish these things wouldn’t be, but I can’t change their lives. The only thing I see to do is just be a little more grateful than I was yesterday about what and who I have in my life.

At 7:03 a.m. the doors of Walgreens were opened. The small crowd that had gathered during our time of wait filed in the doors like shuffling schoolchildren on a bus. This made us happy and able to get on with the day. This made us push the ugly thing to the miscellaneous part of our brain. As I entered the doors I looked back for Mr. Homeless, but he had moved along to the next garbage can down the street where he dug for something good to eat. Something that was left there for him by somebody like me who doesn’t think twice about where the next meal will come.

Let love be without hypocrisy. Abhor what is evil. Cling to what is good. Rom. 12:9