“It’s okay to be homeless,” he told me with dripping wet hair in the midnight rain, his shoulders covered with a moving blanket.
Words spoke aloud to another are reassurance that we are normal, we are okay, we are surviving – it is a way of handling one more night on the streets.
His words were similar to an alcoholic saying, “One day at a time.”
Following his cue while handing him a new sleeping bag I said, “It is okay to be homeless… Some travel the world while homeless.”
“I have come more and more to realize that it is being unwanted that is the worst disease that any human being can ever experience.”