An Afternoon on a Park Bench

I never saw him again

It was a beautiful summer day in Minneapolis. I was sitting on a bench. In the park, next to the transitional housing facility; where I had been living for almost two years.

A nice afternoon for a beer

Another resident sat on the bench in front of me and dug into his backpack for a can of beer. He popped the top and took a gulp of the beer, then with a sigh he said, “Damn, that was good.”

Some people give up

“How ya doing?” he asked me as he sipped the beer. I told him I was doing well, then he said something that would have surprised the old Lawson.

But it didn’t surprise the Lawson sitting on the bench.

“I’m not supposed to drink any alcohol, the doctor said my liver is too messed up, I’ll die if I drink.” He sat the empty can on the bench, then he sat still before grabbing his gut and doubling over in pain.

I thought he would die right there

“Dude, you need to go to the desk and get help,” I said. The guy groaned in pain as he stood up and walked hunched over to the entrance to the shelter.

A few minutes later, the paramedics arrived with sirens screaming. They took the guy out on a stretcher. I never saw him again.

Could that have been me?

I think of that incident occasionally. If I would have stayed homeless, would I have sunk that low? Where I had no regard for my life at all?

I’m thankful that I’m out of that life, and I pray for the friends I made who are still there. I wouldn’t wish that life on anyone. So pray for the homeless and pray that it never happens to you.