questions, why question?

I’ve always contemplated life & it’s meaning. From a young age I’ve asked, why? Always wondering if I’m alone, messy, screwed up. I literally drive myself crazy, an adult. I have to analyze everything, to a fault. I appreciate wholeheartedly those who seem real to me..those who tell it how it is. Sometimes the person is relateable but sometimes not. Random! I recall being in the grocery with my kids several years ago. Jack was tiny. Outside the grocery was a man, clearly homeless & desperate. Something said to engage him…I considered the danger and how odd it may seem, but something pulled me, I related to his loneliness in some way.So I went up to him.. I told him I would buy him a meal if he would accompany my kids and I through Martin’s. Truth is, I was needing company as much as this homeless man. We talked through the whole store. Yes, I bought him a meal, but he gave just as much to me. He spoke of his daughter, whom I apparently reminded him of…This sweet, vulnerable man years ago…I wish I knew more. I wish I could have dinner with him and listen to his life, the life that was last seen by me begging outside the grocery, desperate. I conclude we’re all so equal.He helped me, a young mom, as much as I helped him. Actually more! I just bought some food. I sought that old man remembers our encounter, but that homeless man left an impact on me & my children.

Whatsoever you do to the least of my people, that you do unto me.


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