Where is home?
Home isn’t a house. Nor an apartment. Home can be in the countryside. Home can be in the woods, city, or even outside of the barber shop on the cement sidewalk. Home is where family is, where there’s warmth, where there is comfort.
Everyone has a story to tell. Maybe it’s told by a toasty fire, maybe it’s told in the park. Wherever it is, everyone has a story to tell. A homeless person’s story could be about their dreams, their old life, or a new life they want to start. If you listen, it could take your breath away or you could be surprised. Everyone has a story, a dream, but you have to listen.
Imagine you’re homeless in all weather and you can’t do anything about it. You might not have a comforting blanket or a cozy jacket for winter snow. Maybe not a colourful umbrella for early spring rain. No refreshing water for a warm summer day. Nothing. Imagine.
You may not see homeless kids or people everywhere but it may not mean they aren’t there. Shelters take in the homeless and provide food like soup, water, and a snug bed for the night. I’m not homeless, but I’m thankful for what they provide.
Home isn’t just four walls and a roof. Not a relaxing cabin or a new apartment down on Main Street. Home is a shelter, not necessarily under a roof. Home is anywhere.