His name is Charles and Charles was hungry.
It was just after nine when I headed to a quaint little coffee shop to relax, people watch and do some writing. As I walked past a hotel conference center on a busy Atlanta street I noticed a young man talking to a "more established" gentleman in front of the conference center. By their appearances they seemed to have come from two very different walks in life and I had casually wondered what they had in common to talk about but had quickly dismissed it from my thoughts.
As the man walked back toward the building Charles approached me. He seemed like a nice young man. Polite. And Charles was hungry. He told me he understood why people sometimes didn't want to give money to street people lest they spend it on drugs or alcohol, but he wanted to know if I would buy him something to eat.
As we walked to the nearby Peachtree Center where several restaurants are located, Charles explained to me that he was from Charlotte, North Carolina. He had come to Atlanta a couple months ago with some friends to go to a game, had been separated from them and they left without him. He had no way home and since his situation in North Carolina wasn't so great anyway, he decided to stay here.
Charles had been able to pick up a little work cleaning the arena after big events, but he didn't have an ID and hadn't been too successful with temp agencies. Although it wasn't obvious, he said he hadn't bathed in a week. I asked when he had eaten last and he said he had eaten breakfast yesterday.
He shared with me that the Atlanta shelters cost $9 a night. Since it's been pretty warm he's been sleeping in the street recently but he manages to find the money to stay there when it's cold.
Charles knows how to clean and refinish floors - buffing, polishing, waxing them - and since he learned how at 11 years old I'll bet he's quite good at it. He can also drive forklift. He proudly told me there isn't a forklift that he can't handle!
I wish I had floors that needed someone to refinish them. I wish I had a fork lift that needed a driver. I told him not to lose hope. I told him things will get better. Oh how I wish I had the power to make it so. I wish I could take Charles' hunger away indefinitely.
Later I ate a lunch that didn't taste quite as good as usual and listened to festive Christmas music that didn't bring the joy it usually does.
It was just after nine when I headed to a quaint little coffee shop to relax, people watch and do some writing. As I walked past a hotel conference center on a busy Atlanta street I noticed a young man talking to a "more established" gentleman in front of the conference center. By their appearances they seemed to have come from two very different walks in life and I had casually wondered what they had in common to talk about but had quickly dismissed it from my thoughts.
As the man walked back toward the building Charles approached me. He seemed like a nice young man. Polite. And Charles was hungry. He told me he understood why people sometimes didn't want to give money to street people lest they spend it on drugs or alcohol, but he wanted to know if I would buy him something to eat.
As we walked to the nearby Peachtree Center where several restaurants are located, Charles explained to me that he was from Charlotte, North Carolina. He had come to Atlanta a couple months ago with some friends to go to a game, had been separated from them and they left without him. He had no way home and since his situation in North Carolina wasn't so great anyway, he decided to stay here.
Charles had been able to pick up a little work cleaning the arena after big events, but he didn't have an ID and hadn't been too successful with temp agencies. Although it wasn't obvious, he said he hadn't bathed in a week. I asked when he had eaten last and he said he had eaten breakfast yesterday.
He shared with me that the Atlanta shelters cost $9 a night. Since it's been pretty warm he's been sleeping in the street recently but he manages to find the money to stay there when it's cold.
I wish I had floors that needed someone to refinish them. I wish I had a fork lift that needed a driver. I told him not to lose hope. I told him things will get better. Oh how I wish I had the power to make it so. I wish I could take Charles' hunger away indefinitely.
Later I ate a lunch that didn't taste quite as good as usual and listened to festive Christmas music that didn't bring the joy it usually does.
