So on my travels I have met a thousand homeless people and asked “What is it that gets you through the day?” Some said the thought that they could find a meal. Others said the thought of surviving it without malice or prejudice. Many said they hoped they wouldn’t. And so then I asked “What is hope?” Some said hope is one day finding a home. Others said without it there is nothing. Many said it’s nothing when you’re forgotten and don’t belong. So then I said “What is belonging?” Some said it’s being loved. Others said when a coin drops in a paper cup or when a stranger offers a sandwich, that’s a form of love. Many said in your dreams. Then one person asked me the same questions. I told them that last night when I’d survived the day without malice or prejudice I had hope, and if I slept, I dreamed of having a home with someone who loved me. Those are the belongings I’d carry with me that day.
I would like to help a homeless writer