I, of course, felt guilty because I didn’t bring my Doritos.

The first thing I noticed when we entered the deli was the sign on the door that said “No Begging.”  I should have taken a picture, but I didn’t think of it at the time.

We ordered and sat in a booth by the window.  Outside the deli, I could see a small group of homeless men. I’m sure they were asking incoming deli customers for money for food because most people either breezed by them without stopping or stopped momentarily before continuing on their way. Every so often, I would see someone bring in one or two of the homeless men in  and order them food. I also saw people order food and take it outside to them.

It was nice to see generosity in action.

My friend and I had a lot to talk about.  We were heavily engrossed in our conversation when a man approached us and asked us for money for food. My friend was very polite the first few times it happened. By the fourth time, he just shooed them away.

I sat there numbly eating my fried cheese. I was frustrated because I wanted to be left alone to enjoy my lunch with my friend.  I was frustrated because, despite the sign on the door, none of the deli employees seemed bothered by the homeless people begging inside the store.  I’m sure it was an everyday occurrence for them.

By the time lunch was over, all I could think about was how  confused I felt. I felt bad because the homeless people ruined my lunch. I felt bad because of the number of homeless people wandering in and out of that restaurant. I felt bad because I couldn’t help them all. I felt bad because I realized that the few things that I do for the homeless are a drop in the bucket when compared to the need.

I should have given myself a break.  The nature of community isn’t that some of us do all the work. It is that ALL of us do some of the work.  For some that means participating in the community garden, hosting a block party or having a friendly conversation with your new neighbors. For others it means picking up the trash off the sidewalk, buying lunch for a homeless person or volunteering at your neighborhood community center.

Big or small, we each have a part to play and a need to fill. Our communities need all of us to be involved. The good thing about community is that there is room for all of us.

I often buy those potato chip multipack with Lays, Fritos, Cheetoos, Sun Chips and Doritos. I noticed that my family often leaves the Doritos behind long after the other varieties have been gobbled.  I started grabbing a few bags of Doritos, just in case she, or some other hungry person asked me for food again.

The act of carrying Doritos around made me much more aware of people who might be hungry. Two months after I started carrying them, I was approached at a gas station by an older gentlemen. He told me that he was hungry, but he didn’t want my money,  He knew the store had sandwiches for a $1.50.  He asked if I would go into the store and buy him a sandwich.

Since I was paying at the pump with my credit card, I told him that I wouldn’t buy him a sandwich. As he turned to walk away, I remembered my Doritos. I gave the man a couple of bags, and wished him a good day.  As I got into my car to go home, I saw another person hand the man a sandwich from the store. He smiled, waved at both of us, and held up his food proudly. I was so happy to have aided in feeding him.

There are a couple of churches where half a dozen homeless men loiter on the front steps and the Department of Human Resources [where some of my work is done] is surrounded by the homeless and begging. I learned quickly which routes were safer.

I was, and still am, extremely awkward around homeless people. It makes me uncomfortable to talk to them, as more often than not, they are mentally ill, fighting their own internal and external demons. I never know what to say, as I can rarely figure out what they talk about. When they ask me for money, I feel guilty but I adamantly refuse.

The first homeless person that I connected with was this little old (at least she looks old) white lady that sometimes hangs about the state government buildings.  The first time I saw her I was taken aback. She doesn’t belong on the streets. Her speak pattern makes be believe that she’s developmentally delayed. I wonder where her family is and how she fell through society’s cracks.

She, like most other homeless people, asked me for money. At first, I told her no just like I told all the others. For days, weeks, months, she asked me for money.  Every day I refused.

One day when she asked and I refused to give her money, she asked me if I had any food to share.  I was so surprised that I stopped in my tracks.

I immediately went to my lunch bag and gave her everything that didn’t need to be cooked. I think I gave her apple sauce, another piece of fruit and a bag of chips.  This was around the holidays, and I knew there would be food around the office. When I got to my office, I fixed her a plate and went back outside to give it to her, but she was gone.

After that, I thought about her every morning when I made my lunch. I packed my normal lunch and a little something extra for her. Just in case I saw her.  More often than not, especially as the weather got frigid, she wouldn’t be around when I would enter and leave the building. But I was ready for her.

In San Francisco, the homeless are mostly quiet as they lay on any available surface (even the front lawn and steps of City Hall). Based on what I saw and heard while I was there, San Francisco has done a lot to make homeless people feel… comfortable. As I wandered around the city I saw homeless shelters and soup kitchens everywhere. I was impressed that there were so many resources available for the homeless population.

Nashville’s homeless fit the stereotype that you expect to see in “show biz” cities. Many of the homeless were performers in some way. The majority were musicians of some sort; the streets were alive with the sounds of the homeless playing guitars, harmonicas, trumpets and saxophones and singing the blues. One man had a dog that did tricks; he had a box set up for money that he said would feed him and his dog.  I’m sure I gave away 10 or 20 dollars in one day to various folks. When I peeked in the buckets that the enterprising musicians had situated near them as they played, I saw that I wasn’t the only one giving money that weekend.

Nashville’s downtown is a bustling place teeming with restaurants, bars, play houses, concert venues, ball fields, convention centers, but not one shelter that I could see. I wasn’t in Nashville long enough to know what kind of homeless resources the city, church and non-profit communities allocate to the homeless. I wondered where the homeless went after all the tourists went back to their hotels and the bars closed. I was consoled by the notion that us tourists (at least on the weekend) were doing a decent job of keeping a modicum of the homeless fed and paid.

In Atlanta, where I live, I see homeless people every day. From the fourth floor of my downtown office building I can see tent cities under the I-20 and I-75 overpasses, and when I walk around the block, I pass at least a couple of churches that allow homeless people to hang out on their front steps. I assume that these churches have some services for downtown’s homeless, but I’ve been unable to find any signs to verify this.

In the area around the historic Underground, homeless people lay all around. None of the business owners or their security can do much to stop them, since it’s a public mall. Nearby, in front of and around the State Department of Human Resources, I’ve come across some the most aggressive, mean and obviously mentally ill homeless people in the city.

Before Christmas, I researched downtown homeless shelters for a homeless lady I befriended near my job.  In my research I was only able to locate one downtown men’s shelter and the one food pantry, both of which struggle with staying open. Downtown is home to at least one half-way house. I’ve wondered as I pass it sometimes, how many of those inhabitants end up back on the streets.

I’m appalled by the lack of resources for homeless people in Atlanta, especially in the midst of Atlanta’s City Hall, the Capital and the bulk of state government.  I feel that this neglect has to be in intentional, as I know that the mayor and the state’s congresspeople have to see the homeless poor that call downtown Atlanta home, just as I do.