Man Under the Bridge

As I am taking my two daughters home today, we stumble across the Interstate being shut down... After much frustration, we go on a detour. My youngest falls asleep. That leaves just me, an Anna. As we inch through the stationary traffic, we come to an overpass. As we move, ever so slowly under the bridge, we notice there are various blankets and clothing at the edge of the overpass. We would have never noticed any of this, had we been driving at a normal speed. My six year old daughter asks me why there are blankets and clothing strewn under this bridge. Soon she spots a man sitting within the chaos of debris. I try to explain that the man is homeless, with no other place to go. I also explained how lucky she was to have a home at all. The next two hours were spent discussing how we could "help" this poor man. She had some money saved up, and sincerely wanted to buy him some warm food. She went on to say, we needed to give him some clothes, blankets, and so on. It's hard to explain to a six year old, that sometimes people actually choose to live this way. It was a very revealing and interesting conversation we had about the homeless in America; touching really. All the six year old saw was someone in need. I had a much more cynical point of view. Is that what happens when you get older? I blamed the man for being on drugs or alcohol. Or perhaps he was insane. Maybe he even chose to live this way. Her view was much more innocent... Maybe I'll go through there tomorrow. I think I'll bring him a sandwich... Thank you for your innocence, Anna... You made me really want to help.