Thanks Grace, for posting the link to the SF Chronicle article on "Shame of the City - Homeless Island." It made me really sad, particularly the picture of Tommy. (See the Photographs, they're good.)

I keep thinking that these would be the folks that Jesus would've hung out with. As for me, I have a hard time just looking them in the eye as I walk by. I justify it by saying I'm female, afraid of being harassed, don't want to encourage their drug habits, etc. At the same time, I feel... well... guilty.

At one of the Starbucks I frequent, there are a few homeless folk that hang out there occasionally. They always seem to stick out to me, maybe because they're not reading or talking to anyone, just sitting around and staring into space. They usually drink water from a Starbucks cup without a lid. I imagine it's a nice respite from the rain. Recently, there was a schizophrenic man there - he wasn't bothering anyone, but he had sort of a wild look in his eyes, and I could hear him mutter and exclaim under his breath. He would pace around the room, talk (and respond!) to himself in a corner. I admit he made me a little nervous and uncomfortable, not that I would've admitted it to anyone around me. I wonder if it was only me.

What can I really do? I think I'm a believer in making a difference, making a change. At the same time, I think I've also been hardened into thinking that it's just a drop in the bucket and why should we work so hard for so little result? It's scary to think that, for the most part, people tend to get more cynical with age, and the idealism fades and the self-preservation/self-absorption/self-indulgence mold really solidifies (I think it's been true for myself.)

I don't know. I don't have any answers. I guess I can be somewhat hopeful that, at the very least, I still do feel sad.