There is always a homeless man in Pontiac on the corner of M-59 and The Loop. Sometimes, when I come home from school, he is standing there, in the cold, holding up a sign that reads:
Homeless. Please help.
I stare at him while the light is red, and think, “Hop in my car. Do you want to spend the night at my house tonight?” The light turns green.
But, I don’t stop.
Speeding by him, I wonder if my home can fit as many homeless people as my heart can hold. I imagine the possibilities.
Realistically, could I?
Not really, I reason, shrugging it off. The traffic is too fast, the expense is too much and I really need to get home.
I pass Grace Centers of Hope.
And, after that, I normally forget about the homeless man and his sign with his plea. My last thought is usually, “Jesus said to stop, so why don’t I?”
Because, I don’t want to.
Then, I feel the pang of guilt in my heart.
This prose poem is Copyright 2013 by Jessica Anne McLean. All rights reserved. File sharing is encouraged.
Two Bible passages relevant to this poem are: Luke 10: 25-37 and Luke 14: 15-24
Leave a Reply