The poverty of America is so real, so humbling, and it’s right in my face. I have met so many homeless people and they are as real as it gets. They are the most truthful and some of the nicest people I have met on this whole trip. To see the stuck up arrogance of the “city” people just makes me sick. Is it because I have a beard and push a cart that you won’t look me in my eye, return a smile or a simple hi?
Is America too proud to just acknowledge the lady sitting on her stuff sack, smoking her cigarette, holding the sign “hard times and God bless?” If I can spare her two dollars and a conversation, I know the guy in his Mercedes Benz can. Why am I so blessed? Why do I have the technology to post this sitting on the side of a canal? Why am I the one with a duffel bag full of food?
About an hour ago walking through the heart of Phoenix I met an extremely grateful man. He was making his bed on the gravel under the bridge of Interstate 10. I asked if he was hungry because I have plenty of food. He smiled and said, “No thank you.. I’m quite all right. I have everything I need… I’m HOME.”