Ricky.

Tonight on the way home from a lovely meal with friends, Nathan and I found ourselves chatting with a man we met a year or so ago. 
We chatted about how we were and listened about how he had just had a tough couple of days. Ricky had got in a scrap and had some money stolen. His beloved guitar had also been broken, which caused him much pain as it was the joy of his life.
As we sat and chatted I noticed the air get cooler. The warm spring evening started to gradually feel less appealing.
We caught up with Ricky for over an hour, listening about his travels and talking about the people we both know.
I noticed that those around us who witnessed this conversation looked uncomfortable. Some looked almost guilty. Some looked in us with pity. Some smiled. But some looked at us, at me when I tried to make eye contact, like absolute filth. I have never in my adult life been looked at in public like something that someone had scraped off their shoe. But I certainly experienced that tonight.

Now for a little more context: our conversation with Ricky took place in the doorway of the Edinburgh Woolen Mill shop. Ricky sat on his sleeping bag whilst Nathan and I sat on the floor. 

We met Ricky when he engaged us in conversation, much like he did tonight, a year ago. We got chatting and spent some time getting to know him. A week later we saw him in York enjoying the sun and playing his drum with some friends. He was a transformed man! I pray for every homeless person I meet and I keep a list of their names in the back of my journal. I have never seen any of them again apart from Ricky, so it was a powerful experience when we met the same man for a third time tonight.

I was dismayed to see him looking so broken. No, I wasn't dismayed, I was heart broken. He's a lovely fella, which is probably why I've found myself easily talking to him for hours at a time more than once! But the locals have been unkind and without his guitar he feels like he has no purpose. 

I think I can understand how situations like this arise through difficult circumstances. I once heard that many of us would be surprised to learn that we are just one pay check away from homelessness. 

But what I do not understand is why so many people either actively sneer at or simply ignore their fellow human beings in front of them. 

I was taught by a wonderful woman, Hannah Moore, how to speak to homeless people a few years ago because I didn't know. It turns out that all you need to do is speak to them like a person. Say hello, introduce yourself and ask them their name. Even if you have nothing to give, that communication is very important to people who are so regularly ignored or treated badly. 

The most moving thing tonight was that when I offered Ricky my hand he tried to wipe his hand on his trousers first to clean it. He needn't have done that. I would rather have slightly grubby hands from engaging with Ricky than clean ones that went about their business as if nothing was wrong.