Are there homeless people in the afterlife?

I was standing outside my club, the one I like, where my favorite band plays -- I was smoking a cigarette. It's been a couple months since I've been out, I guess, because I've been sick, off and on. The first half of the show was wonderful, and the atmosphere joyful. Everyone had gone back in, and I had just begun smoking.

A black woman, looked to be in her twenties, bundled up, came up and stood beside me, crying. She told me she was at the end of her rope. She looked into my face like she was dying. She said she couldn't get into the shelter that night, and the temperature was dropping to freezing. She was shaking and crying, leaning against the wall, so I put my arm around her shoulders.

"It's going to be okay," I said.
"Is it?" she asked, as if in disbelief.
"Yes, it is."

She told me a rapid story of how she had been abused by her partner, and didn't want to stay with him. She said she was trying to stay off alcohol and drugs, and that she'd been clean for a month.

"I'm trying to stay clean," she said with a fervor in her voice. She was sobbing and shaking. I looked at her. She had no place to go, but, damn it, she was trying to stay 'clean' and not break her promise to herself.

"You are clean," I said. "You are feeling your own feelings, and that's hard sometimes."

I went back into the club for a moment, asking her to wait.

When I returned, first I handed her $40. Then I pulled out $60 more.

I just happened to have it. I don't carry money around.

She began yelling with happiness. "I can get a room," she half-sobbed/shouted. "Yes," I said, "Get a room, get some food, watch tv..."

"Watch TV........." she repeated in ecstacy.

"Don't forget, you deserve this, for being a human being." I said.

She just about broke my bones hugging me. "Thank you, lady!" She went running down the street in joy.

Her feet, I swear, I didn't see them landing as she left.

That's how I feel in my dreams sometimes. Like I'm running down the street, and I seem to lift off the ground, and suddenly I'm flying. What a great feeling it is to be flying.

love, blink

My thoughts exactly, Roger. 
This did happen to me: I was walking my 3 blocks to work and saw a homless person on the opposit side of the street. I had to cross to his side, as the building I was going into was near him. As I did, the thought came to me, "Oh, is he going to ask me for money?" After crossing, that's exactly what happened. He needed money to get to the next City via bus, and didn't have enough money on him.  I reached into my purse (which I don't normally do --- I use to keep loose money in my pocket for such purposes) and came up with a $5 bill. I apoligised saying, "All I have on me is $5" and I handed it to him. He was elated and told me that now he had enough for the ticket. I watched him go down the street toward the bus terminal and pass out of my sight.
It's a chance we take in believing the homeless persons. I always wondered if he was a spirit only--- testing me. I am a giver, but it doesn't mean that I don't get leary when a person approaches me that I don't know.

The receiver must make his/her own choice.  Most times I don't carry any money on me at all-- maybe my debit card with limited funds or some loose change.  Another time a homeless young man was a distance from me, freezing and asking for help. The shelters turn them out at 7:00 AM each morning unless the temperature is under 32 degrees.  I heard him ask from behind me, but I was already in a rush for work. I made a mental note that I would try to help. After work, I didn't notice that he was in an alcove until I was driving home. The next day I had put together warm clothes and a blanket for him, but he wasn't there again for the rest of the winter. My heart sunk. I really wanted to help him.

Once again, I made a choice--- and I was too late.
The homeless persons also have to make choices and that often is dependent on us. I can't save the world, but maybe I can make one little dent in it.

Love and Light--- Carol Ann

Yes it's interesting, one makes a decision to give or not to give, and dependent on this the receiver/non receiver makes a decision. But independently of the consequences on the biographies which we can't foresee, Blink beautifully told of a special moment. The poor woman, no matter what she later decided to do with the money, was happy at that moment, and she'll never forget this experience. Such episodes have a right on its own, and as well can be seeds for whatever biographic turning points. Life is twisting, turning and winding and goes strange ways sometimes, maybe, don't know where, don't know when, we'll be able to put the pieces together. If necessary.

Spooky

Thanks for telling us your story, Hawkeye. I'm glad you made it to be with us here.   love, blink

I think this is an inspiring story. Giving like this is an act of unconditional love- not requiring the person to use the money in a way that you think is best for them, but allowing them to make the decision for themselves. They may learn a lesson or not, but you have taken a gamble on an important opportunity. Last night I gave money at the bus station to someone who was turned away by about 30 people in a row for asking for a dollar. If your friend asked you for a dollar, you'd probably give it, no questions asked. I say we see all human beings as our friends. Especially when some have so little and we have so much, let us not judge what horrible circumstances and despair may have led them to such a place, and let us not take our own fortune for granted- we have all made decisions, but have relied more than we know on the love and support of others.

Bless you Roger, this is my favorite saying!!!

Joe--- I knew I loved you at TMI--- now I understand even more of why I love you--- Thanks for sharing your story.

I said that we all make a choice, those of us who beg and those of us who give. That is the same in the BST that we choose to be in. I there is a lesson, still to be learned, then our BST will be one of homelessness and a feeling of desertion. Bruce talked about this in one of his books. A lady he came upon in BST believed that all the helpers around her were wild dogs that where chasing her to do her harm. Actually, they were helpers, spirits, guides and human travelers like Bruce, trying to help her. She made her own hell" because she believed she deserved to be punished.  It would be the same for the homeless person.

If the homeless person suddenly passes on without realizing it, then his/her belief system would appear the same in every way, and gradually start to show discrepancies so the person who just past will start to question his/her new inviroment.
"Oh-- I don't remember that new person being here in the park with me.  "
" That looks just like Jane Doe. But, it can't be. She died a few months back".
"I don't remember putting on this coat. Where did this come from?"

Then the new realization of passing onto another level will start to take hold and the homeless "spirit" person can move on.

---cat