It started as a normal walk along the trail. With the sun peaking through the trees and an unseasonable lack of chill in the air, I made may way north to the grocery store. I split my shopping between a large chain, an large organic food chain and farmers' markets. This particular morning I was headed to the large chain, excited to redeem digital coupons for several free items: two containers of greek yogurt and a box of protein bars. The coupons are issued every Friday and are live for two weeks. If I plan things right, I can redeem three at once. There's no real reason for doing this other than it feels a bit like a holiday when I can walk out of the grocery store with three items and no have to dig in my wallet for any of it. This particular day was just such a holiday.
Happy with my "purchases" I made my way out of the store and south along the trail. I should describe the trail. It is situated on an old Monon rail line and runs about 15 miles through Indianapolis and one of the north suburbs. The backbone of a system of trails that snake through the city, part of Indianapolis' effort to connect neighborhoods and provide commuters a bike trail connection to downtown.
Still early in the day, the trail was empty and made my way home. Paying attention to the sound of woodpeckers, squirrels and other creatures in the trees that line the trail I paid little attention to what looked like trash bags piled off in the distance. On occasion there have been bags of leaves thrown over backyard fences that have landed on the pathway, so the appearance of an overstuffed black plastic bag would not have been at all unusual.
As I got a little closer, I noticed it wasn't a garbage back at all. For this distance I couldn't tell exactly what it was, but I was certain that it was not a bag of any sort.
At 10 feet away I was certain I knew what was in the middle of path.
It was a sleeping bag, with a sky blue stocking cap peaking out of one end. Instinctively I slowed my pace. While I didn't feel anything evil, I became cautious, "just in case."
At 3 feet, the (hopefully) sleeping figure was on to my left with a shopping bag under their head. I noticed a few items in the sack with their price tags showing in the increasing light of the morning. But I kept walking.
Seeing homeless on street corners and alleyways is a daily occurrence for most of us. It's something we have learned to tune out, like the sounds of traffic or commercials on radio. Silently we are thankful that we are looking down at the figure on the street rather than looking up at disapproving eyes. We attach words like "lazy, "addict, and "bum" to our fellow human, making ourselves comfortably superior as we move on our way and promptly forget the person we've just past.
And that's what I did. I walked past this figure I encountered on my morning walk, happy in the knowledge that it wasn't me. Then, as the distance between us lengthened, my steps slowed.
Then I stopped. Walked back and observed this person curled up in their sleeping bag. Looking for signs of breath I stood and watched for a few minutes. If they were sleeping, I didn't want to wake them. Fortunately, I saw the steady rise and fall of their shoulders and an occasional turn of their head.
Why did I stop? I stopped because I thought that could be me or someone else I knew. Who knew what circumstances led this human here to be sleeping on the Monon Rail Trail, but here they were.
I opened my bag and left one of the containers of yogurt and half the protein bars and proceeded to head home.
With the right combination of circumstances, however unlikely, we could be sleeping in a shelter or warming ourselves on a street corner steam vent. Regardless if the cause is an addiction, mental illness, or the loss a home because criminally high mortgage rates, homelessness is a reality for many.
The homeless should not be pariahs. They are human and deserving of the dignity afforded to all people in the world.
The world is a much better place when we move forward together.
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