Their stories

Today I went to visit a couple of halfway houses for men and women trying to kick their drug and alcohol addictions. As we walked through the facilities, I was unimpressed by my surroundings. Compared to the organization where I work, these houses were severely lacking. They didn't smell clean. Everything in them was old. In the men's home, everything was covered in the dingy yellow of years of cigarettes smoked. In the women's home, 18 women shared three bathrooms, one of which was out of order.

It would have been easy to pass judgement in these places. These are the homeless that we most often show disdain for - the folks who are constantly looking for their next fix, who take our money and merely pretend to be buying food. These are the folks that cause so many of us to want to dismiss the homeless as people who are getting what they deserve. And yet...

The man who gave our first tour shared his story of recovery. Having struggled with alcohol and drugs, he's been clean for five years, and now he's giving back by working at the halfway house, encouraging others in the 12-step program that changed his life. He humbly acknowledged that "nobody comes here because they're society's cream of the crop," including himself in the list of losers housed in the building. Then we came to the chapel. He explained the strong role spirituality holds in the program, and nearly cried as he told us about how God saw it fit to provide him with a son after he finally cleaned up. He doesn't want the little guy to turn out like his father.

The woman taking us through the second house told us about how she'd learned to admit she was a "regular Irish drunk." Sheepishly, she explained how she'd lost everything, been rescued by this facility, and was now working to stay sober and help other women do the same.

These are the stories I told you all I wanted to learn. Those of the Toms, Johns, Katies, Carols, Lucys. These are real people who've made real mistakes. But these real people would never have had hope of recovery without someone's reaching out. The fact of the matter is that no matter how they become homeless, no matter how many drugs they take, no matter how innocent their circumstances, the homeless need our help. One person at a time. Face to face. Hands up, not hand outs.