by Simonne Liberty

Created on: June 13, 2009

Someone was ringing my door bell. I opened the door to find a homeless man, who was obviously mentally ill. He was irate, and yelled at me to give him a sandwich. It was cold, and damp outside. Not a day a person would want to be roaming around aimlessly. I was stunned at the man's demanding tone. But I could see that he was not exactly normal. I told him to wait outside and I'd get him something. I went to the refrigerator, and could not find anything to make a sandwich from. I found several pieces of pizza we had ordered the night before. I took the pizza out to the man, and told him that i didn't have any sandwich meat, but I had the cold pizza he could have. The man grabbed the pizza and then went into a rage.

He yelled, "I don't want no god dam cold pizza, I want a sandwich." He was eating the pizza, and he had a large gash on his head. He was filthy, and under dressed for the whether. A part of me was insulted by his ungrateful and rude response to my attempt to help him. Then he yelled again, "Get me a god dam sandwich." Again I went into the house to see if I had anything I could make a sandwich with. I found peanut butter and jelly. When I offered it to him, he ordered me to "make him another one."

When I brought him the second sandwich, he asked me if he could come inside, because he was cold. At this point fear gripped me. I closed and locked the door. The man's anger had upset me. I was more than willing to help him, but his anger had frightened me. I can understand how street people can become violent and dangerous. Helping this man could had put me at harm of being seriously hurt.

Society often sees this side of the problem of homelessness. The side I wanted to understand, was the side where society allows this problem to come to this in the first place. The mentally ill have no business being left to fend on their own in the streets. When they do commit some minor crime, they are put into prison as punishment.

I thought to myself, "How would I feel if I were cold, broke, hungry, homeless and socially rejected and neglected?" I'm sure I'd be angry, and full of hate too. I'm sure going to jail or prison, becomes a thought that offers a better outcome than being a no body, in a world full of resentment toward the poor and forgotten.

Prison is a choice that rips out the human heart, and stomps on any human dignity left in the human soul. Anger fights with ;this choice. Homelessness often wins out, and these poor souls continue to struggle to eat, sleep and keep warm. There is no room left to be grateful to the few who toss them crumbs. There is no room to feel or give love, because they don't get any. Emptiness consumes their lives. It is ironic how our leaders refuse to put these mentally ill homeless in group homes, or places where they can be taken care off, yet they think nothing of putting them into prison, so they can collect the big bucks from taxpayers. The priorities of our leaders, only focus on Profits. Where is our humanity and compassion?

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