And another thing...

Today as I walked up the stairs at the shelter where I work, I heard a "Hey, Whitney!" and looked down over the banister. Standing there were three men whose faces I have seen over and over again, three men whose names I have learned, bits of whose stories I have heard. One of them is an artist. He paints beautiful things on found "canvases," many of which are hanging on the center's walls. One of them is a musician, a guitarist, who's performing in a local music festival soon.

I don't know yet how any of these men became homeless, and I don't know what's keeping them on the streets. What I do know is that these familiar faces greet me with smiles. They are my friends. They are my neighbors. And they are homeless.

Today I overheard one of my coworkers talking about what my homeless neighbors do to stay alive at night in the winter - they walk. It's too cold to sleep outdoors in the snow, unsheltered, so they walk all night long, up and down the streets, just to stay alive. Then they come to the center and sleep in chairs to make up for the sleep they lost during the night. Just the thought of that walk for survival, night after night, brings tears to my eyes. Because these are my friends. These are our neighbors.

And that's just not okay.