My slice of humble pie.

I know this isn't literature related, but I felt I needed to share the experience I had this morning.

I work as an early morning baker in downtown Portland, in an area that is constantly full of homeless people. I hate confrontation, so if I leave them alone they usually leave me alone. This is always tested when they’re sleeping in the doorway that I walk through every morning. I usually quickly back-peddle and go through one of the main entrances. 

This morning was different though. I’d been working on my muffins for about 30 minutes when I happened to notice a homeless lady putting her stuff down in the doorway. We briefly made eye contact through the windows before I slid my eyes right over here, trying to avoid showing too much attention to her. She quickly settled down on her cardboard and went to sleep. I honestly don’t mind when they sleep in my doorway. Their lives are hard enough without me chasing them off. Plus that would require confrontation.

Fast forward two hours, and she’s waking up. I continue to avoid looking at her, redoubling my efforts when I notice she’s trying to get my attention. Great, I thought, she wants free food. She even tried the door handle. I’m texting my husband the whole time, saying if she isn't gone by 5:30 A.M. I would call the non-emergency hotline and have her shoo’ed off.

Then, I noticed she taped a note to the window. For awhile, it was the opposite of a staring contest: how long could I go before I read it. Finally walking by, I sped read it and it brought me to a stop.

It said: Thank you for not chasing me off. I was so tired I was seeing things and here was the only place I came close to seeing safe enough to rest. Ty x100.

I’m so glad I didn't call the police.

I grabbed a bag of day old muffins and a bottle of water, and took it out to her. A bit out of pity, but mostly because she looked like she really needed it.

Before I could even offer it, she was thanking me profusely for letting her rest and telling me about her night’s experience. It turned out she had tried to sleep earlier in the night but was woken up when someone tried to steal what little she had, and she almost got stabbed in the process. She’d been running the rest of the night until she finally saw my work’s door stop.  

She didn't look “cracked out”, she was better-spoken than some non-homeless people I know, and she was grateful. Now, I know personally that not all homeless people out there are as seemingly clean and sane as she was.

At the same time, I was reminded that she is a person.

She had a family at one point, she had friends. Not many people are born into the life she was living now. But our society has turned her invisible to most of us.

But I saw her this morning, and through seeing her—I saw myself.

It’s humbling how such an act of paranoid kindness could affect her day. But I think I got more out of the experience. She showed me how even though she was invisible, she was still a person.

And by showing me that, she made me a better person.