Penny Lane, my wee dog and I walked up our Interurban Trail to Walgreens, to pick up a prescription. It was a cool day, early September, autumn in the air. A young man was by the doors as we approached. He was carefully pawing through the top of the garbage bin. Long dark hair and a handsome face, dressed in jeans, hiking boots and a light jacket, he opened a discarded meal container, made a face at the contents, and tossed it back.

“You hungry?” I asked. He smiled, a mouth full of beautiful white teeth, punctuated by dimples.

“Yes,” he said.

“What would you like?” I asked, hoping it was something that might be available in the drugstore.

“Anything,” he said. 

Where do homeless people come from? Where are they going? What are they doing here? These are questions we all wonder. Are they dangerous? Are they on drugs? What happened to them to make them homeless?

I told him to wait for me. The pharmacy was busy with covid testing out their drive-up window, people inside getting vaccinated, and two people in front of me who appeared to have extremely complicated issues. While I stood in line, properly distanced, I decided I would get a twenty and let the young man go shop for himself. But when I asked for cash over the purchase, the clerk rang it up and forgot to click that button. She said I’d need to make another purchase to add cash to my purchase, and I’d already made my purchase. Half an hour had passed. Frustrated, I wondered if he would still be there. He was. I was struck once again by how young this not-much-more-than-a-boy was. He was clean, he looked like he took care of himself, good-looking.

“Walk with me,” I said. “Let’s go over to Trader Joe’s and you can pick out what you want.”

Penny liked him. That’s always a good sign. On the way, a couple short blocks, I asked his name. Matthew. From Palmdale, California, and not in contact with his mother, who has problems of her own, and kicked him out long ago, while he was still in school, and no, he didn’t graduate. Matthew does have regular contact with his grandmother, who he’s close to, and always lets her know where he is, and that he’s okay, and she worries about him, all the time. Twenty-three years old. Homeless for all practical means and purposes. Matthew and his dog are on their way to Whitefish, Montana, where there is migrant work. He travels with a friend, and they take turns guarding their tent and staying with the dog. They were in Seattle, waiting for their connection to Whitefish. Often, they ride in empty boxcars. They never try to get in while the train is rolling but sneak in while it’s in the yard. Usually there are security people who do see them but let them be.

I carried Penny into the store. No one paid any attention to this older woman and young native man. Matthew took his time carefully choosing something to eat. It was a tuna wrap.

“Get something for your friend,” I said.

“You’re sure?” he asked.

“Of course.”

He grabbed an Italian style wrap sandwich and when I told him to get something else, he took a chicken Caesar salad. I asked if he’d like some fruit and we had a look at apples and oranges.

“I think the cut-up fruit would be better,” he said, and I reached for the largest container.

At the check stand, I made sure I was going to get cash back and handed Matthew $20.

He was so grateful, tears in his eyes, as we stood outside the store, and it was clear he wanted to hug me.  We grasped each other’s elbow instead and he gave Penny a pat. The bill was $17.66 and I later kicked myself for not getting him dog food.

Low-income migrant workers are amongst the most vulnerable to exploitation and abuse.

1 in 10 young adults ages 10 – 25 endure some form of homelessness in a year.

People of color have an 83% higher risk of homelessness.

A big challenge for homeless people looking for jobs is not having the right skill set.

We have attitudes about homeless that are rarely based on facts.

I’m not a religious person. My friends are aware of that. I do weary of Christians in our society who rely on certain types of media to get justification for their actions and judgments. However, what a difference it would make if they simply applied lessons from the scriptures, which they ignore in favor of those they choose to interpret to validate their own causes.

Matthew 25:35-36 – For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat I was thirsty, and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger…

Matthew 25:40 … Truly I will tell you, whatever you did for the one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.

Thanks for reading….

(This is not a photo of Matthew; it is a stock photo.)