Moving Mountains

The music in the background became dull now as we moved further and further away from the concert. My daughter and I had just finished watching a free concert that took place in a beautiful park as a kickoff to summer in the city. Night had fallen and the air was calm, but the crowd was wild! Concertgoers left the park with smiles on their faces and autographs in their pockets. A roar mounted over the area where an anxious crowd was waiting impatiently to catch a glimpse of the country music stars leaving the area.

My daughter was one of the exstatic ones. Still thrilled from the excitement of going to her first concert and also from catching the drumstick that had been thrown from the stage, my daughter’s face was lit up like the morning sun. She could have stayed in the park forever, but as I watched the clouds begin to roll in, I knew it would only be moments before we were caught in the thunderstorm that was headed our way. The entire walk to the car was filled with conversation about how much fun she had and how lucky she was. We were however, about to discover how lucky we truly are.

Our car was parked on the other side a hill, across from the parking lot. As a short cut, we decided to race up and down the hill, attempting to see who could make it to the car first. As we reached the top of the hill, we saw a kid, probably not older than eighteen lying near a fountain, attempting to fall asleep. His head was resting on a backpack, which he was using for a pillow. One thin, blanket was all he had to shield his body from the cold.

Tears instantly filled my daughter’s eyes as I watched horror and sadness consume her. She had never been faced with the reality of seeing a homeless person firsthand. I have always attempted to explain to her that we are very fortunate and we should not take life for granted, but nothing could have prepared her for what she was seeing at that exact moment.

I stood there frozen, not exactly sure what to do. I felt so terrible for this young man, who looked like such a little child curled up by the fountain. I would have loved to help in any way possible. Realistically, however, I knew that I would need to keep a little distance since we were in the city and I slightly feared for our safety. As I contemplated what to do, my daughter simply asked, “Where is your family?” She was still engulfed in tears and wanted to ensure that he would be safe from the storm that was about to explode from the sky.

He simply replied, “I don’t have a family.” My daughter’s tears became full wails now and she insisted that he come home with us. I offered the young man the $30 that I had in my pocket, knowing that it was not much, but it was all that I had to give.

As we continued along our way, my daughter was furious with me. She couldn’t believe that I would not offer to bring him home with us and she was absolutely terrified about his safety. Having never been faced with that situation myself in the past, I too doubted that I had done enough.

Where would he go during the storm? What happened to cause a boy so young to be on the streets? Was there more that I could have done? These questions still haunt me now, even a couple of days later as I ponder what he is doing at this very moment.

It saddens me that with all of the systems that the United States has in place, we still have young children, men, and women living on the streets. I hate to have to tell my daughter that there are people that have no choice but to live on the streets and that for our own safety, we can not take them home with us. I wish there could have been more that I was able to say, more that I was able to do.

As I sit here writing this post, I realize how unbelievably lucky I am. I have a beautiful family and a roof above our heads. I am able to put food on the table and do not have to worry about how I will shield my children from the upcoming storm. We have plenty of blankets, clean clothes and showers. We truly are lucky and I am so thankful for everything that I am blessed with.

But, am I truly happy? My answer to that question would have to be no. My heart aches for this young man and I am never going to be the same after that fateful night. I am determined to make a difference in the lives of others from this point on. My mission is to demonstrate to my daughter that even though we might not have made a tremendous difference on that particular night, there is still so much more that we are capable of doing. I want to show her that even though one person may not be able to make a tremendous difference in someone’s life, a group of people willing to help can move mountains.