Short Life Stories

Just A Glimpse

It was just a glimpse. I was driving home from work and there he was walking down a barren street. His clothes, much like his face, were worn and dirty and his age showed in his heavy wrinkles. He looked ahead almost in a dancing walk while he appeared to be singing to music only he could hear. He did not look happy but he did not look sad either. "A homeless man," I thought to myself just as he looked my way. I turned away. Maybe the long day had beaten me down so much that I could not look into his eyes. I wondered how many times that happened to him in a day. How many people look away, not wanting to know or care? More involved in their own lives to be able to care or wonder about another's life. And that was me on that day. I was almost ashamed. My mind wandered. Maybe he wasn't homeless. Who am I to judge? I thought about my Grandfather and what he always said, "you can't understand what someone is going through or feeling until you walk a mile in their moccasins." That memory made me smile. I had to take a few minutes to be thankful for all my blessings, for all that I have and all that I don't have. And to be thankful for a glimpse into another life.