Joe spots a (presumably) homeless person sleeping on a bus station bench as we drive by.
Joe: What happened to THAT guy?
Me: (measured, carefully): He’s sleeping, because he’s tired.
Me: Because his life is kinda hard. He doesn’t have a bed, or a house.
Me: (spiraling) Because life is harder for some people, it’s not really fair, some people are just really lucky and some people less so, so it’s our job to help those that aren’t as lucky or fortunate as us.
I spiral, wondering what we could do to actually help the man, or if it’s best to leave him alone, and really what DO I do, like on a daily or regular basis, to help anyone, and what sort of example am I setting and am I doing enough to build Joe into a good human being, or am I too focused on the bare bones of keeping him alive and teaching him to poop in the toilet?
Me: (now crying) WE SHOULD HELP THEM
Joe:….Does he….have a car?
Me: ….NO, HE DOESN’T EVEN HAVE A CAR, AND IT’S NOT F —
A firetruck passes and so does the moment. I’ve nailed it or blown it, or both.