On Friday evening, I decided to go and spend time
volunteering at a soup kitchen in Port
Elizabeth . It is called the City Feed, run by a
charity called 'Love Story'.
I have realised that I love being with the homeless. Every
time I want to go I still find it a struggle to go out - I blogged about this
before in My Couch.
I parked my vehicle. Got out of it and started striding
towards the group of homeless people and the charity crew. I parked a level
below the market square where the soup kitchen happens. So I had to climb up a
couple of stairs to join the group. While I was climbing the stairs I lost all
my confidence to be there. I felt terribly out of place. It felt awkward. I
started contemplating going home. Climbing in my couch seemed such a tempting
idea. I felt a sudden longing to fill my mind with more brainless TV.
While I was contemplating this conundrum a guy walked up to
me and asked me how I was doing. The guy was homeless. I think he saw me as a
new homeless brother who needed some care. He made me feel welcome in his
'house' - the streets. He did what I normally do. He asked me a whole lot of
questions. He engaged with me and put me at ease.
We ended up having a very honest conversation. We talked
about his drug addiction, our struggles in life, heart breaks, prison, dreams
and hopes...
This homeless guy made me feel welcome.
I went to the soup kitchen planning to 'heal' and 'help'
people, but I was the one who was 'helped out' by this unlikely homeless
stranger who made time for me and cared enough to start a conversation with me.
When do you feel special? When last did you make someone
feel special?
