Chico

I saw Chico today. He's my friend. Kinda. I don't know him too well but I've seen him around since I started working here, so it's been close to 2 and half years now. He's homeless. Or he was. I stopped and talked to him for a bit, maybe 10 minutes or so. He was telling me how he was given an apartment and doesn't have ot be out in the cold anymore. He says how now only pan handles to pay for his rent. I guess he gets some sort of government-issued check, which goes toward his rent too. I tihnk he said he pays about $7.75 or $70.75, probably $70.75 (it was loud - middle of the financial district, traffic, people, noise pollution, but I am a good listener). He's funny. Often times, as people walk past him he'll say, "Any loose twenties?" Whenever he says that to me, I always say the same thing, "I wish." He always compliments people, calls them angels and beautiful, even if they're neither. He's kind and happy. He always offers people a smile and if you talk to him and ask him how he's doing, he says "Blessed as always." I wish more people were like him. I wish I were more like him. Sometimes I wake up and I'm not happy. I think how life sucks and how I would rather be in bed. Instead, I should think how blessed I am to be alive, to have the opportunity to live another day and experience the miracle of the creation that we human beings are.

Today I told him that next I have money in my wallet, I would give it to him. He said he doesn't care for money, that he prefers smiles. "Well, smiles I have!" I told him with a wide grin. He made my day. He made me feel blessed and not because I have so much more then he does, but just because he reminded me that life is precious. He advised me to not take anything for granted. He's from Texas, but doesn't go home because his family is all gone. He says we don't appreciate what we have until it's gone. He's right. We sometimes focus so much on what we can't have, that we forget to acknowledge the value of what we do have. He shared a bit of what his life is like. He says most people are nice, but once in a while he'll encounter some that are spiteful. He's been spit at, yelled at, told to get a job. He says he can't work, that he's arm is broken and he has many internal medical issues. Whether that's true or not, I don't know. I'm currently reading a book titled "Poor People", which basically tries to discover why there are poor people and focuses on third world nations. The reasons some people give for their poverty are interesting. Some people accept it as their fate, saying it's because they were bad in their previous life. Others blame it on society, on the rich, on their inability to work due to mysterious illnesses. Truth is subjective. My truth may be your myth. Chico's reasoning may be an excuse for many, but it's a reality to him.