Wandering through the streets of the city
Beauty, dirty, ugly, sad, broken, small.
I never expect to find beauty in the downtown area. I expect to see, hear, and smell people, places, and things that have been downtrodden, that have nothing left but their own life. I will openly admit that I am scared of being downtown alone so often. My office is in a run-down one-story black building on the corner, straight down from the baseball field.
If I walk a block or two, I will come across the Denver Coalition for the Homeless. It makes me uncomfortable, all these people milling about. If I pull up to a stop light and there is anybody standing or walking near my car, I will turn up my music and lock the doors.
I cannot deny my aid to anyone. I can count on one hand the number of times I haven’t given money to someone who walked up to me and asked for it while I was downtown. So, knowing my own weakness, I avoid eye contact and walk quickly past them or roll my windows up because I know I won’t refuse if asked.
Writing this out makes me feel even worse about not doing enough to help that community, many of whom are veterans and people who have families and loved ones just like me.