Each day, I drive by numerous homeless, or supposedly homeless folks on my way to and from work or play. Fullerton, California is a good place to be homeless. On the coldest nights, it isn't very cold. There's a park nearby in Anaheim that has become a home base for many homeless folks. They stand on the major street corners, near the freeway on and off ramps, with their cardboard signs claiming they are homeless, out of work, disabled vets, trying to feed children, needing just a few dollars to carry them over, hungry, etc........ Yes, I'm one of those people that hand my money out the window of the car. I always have and I always will. A little voice in my head says, "There but for the grace of God goes I." I think that voice is my Grandma Grace's. She always helped those that were down and out.
I'm not naive. I know some of those folks are scammers, and some others could get a job if they really tried. I also know there are mentally ill folks out there, too. But it isn't up to me to sort them out.
I want to know their stories. I would love to sit down and talk to them, one at a time, and really find out why they're there, living in the park on La Palma in Anaheim, and "working" at the 91 Fwy. and Lemon and Harbor Blvds. I'm considering taking a notebook, and a few $10.00 bills and striking up conversations.
The truth is, people love to talk if they know someone is truly interested in them and willing to listen. I'm truly interested and willing to listen. I'm a good listener. I've been told that a lot. I listen, keep secrets, and I don't judge. I just listen. Maybe I'll do it.
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