Some many different kinds of people are here at this coffee house in Burlington, Vermont. You have the regular guy who reads his newspaper every morning. He stares aimlessly into space sometimes, reflecting on what he is reading or bored from his lack of spontaneity.
Or the homeless man who sadly runs his fingers on the hard surface of the table. He doesn’t look very content. My heart goes out to him and the many homeless in the Burlington area. He probably finds that motion of his fingers touching the surface soothing, or maybe it’s a compulsive desire. I wonder if he ate anything today and where he sleeps at night. He has an untrimmed beard and a disheveled face with the look of many years of hurt, disappointment, and poverty.
He sometimes goes to the back alley behind the coffee house and lights a cigarette that he had in his pocket, staring aimlessly into space for different reasons than that of the regular coffee attendee. Or maybe it’s not as dissimilar as one might imagine.
We are all stuck in this particular time on Earth with no choice of our own. We try to make the best of it, but life leaves us bored and unfulfilled at times.
If it weren’t for the sweet mother I have, I would be lost forever in a whirlwind of disillusion and pain. My mother’s grace, fiery Irish temperament, and wittiness have given me my grace to move forward.
We need to reach out to the lost and broken whether they are homeless, motherless, fatherless, or caught in the web of our societal corrupt sex market.
We are all lost, though. Just look around you. Behind every smile is a fragile soul. Behind every good deed can be insecurity and self-denial.
We must heal the broken!