We are all teachers teaching.

Inevitably, at some point during our day, we become The Teacher. We give this gift of showing others The Way. The thing is though, I think we forget half the time we’re the teacher and that others are watching.

Just this afternoon, while walking Murph, I thought about not picking up after him. I mean, come on, who in their right mind enjoys picking up dog shit? Seriously. It always seems like I’ve been downgraded a notch or seven. I can’t stand it, so 99% of the time, I contemplate not doing it.

But then I think. What does this mean for another? What would I want someone to do? My contemplation quickly turns into action. Things become pretty clear pretty quick when we imagine it’s us stepping in that shit, or dealing with it in our yard.

Always setting the example, People. That’s what it’s about. Quite annoying and holier than thou, totally agree with you on that point, and not like I’m always on it, but I attempt.

I love, as I go about my day, looking and watching for My Teacher{s}. Whose going to be the lucky one to hold me up in line and help me practice patience and understanding? Yes, that’s usually my big sticking point.

This afternoon, as I was lounging on my porch swing, soaking up every single minute of this warm day, that promises Spring really is around the corner, The Teacher showed up.

With the warm weather, tons of people were out … parks filled, dogs being walked {okay, barked at by Murph}, people walking the ‘hood, how great it was to see everyone out of their homes and into their environments. I made it a point to say hi to all who passed by on the sidewalk.

As I was engrossed with my book, I saw a woman, out of the corner of my eye, approaching on her bike, who looked out of place. I said hi and she stopped, her response completely unintelligible. Prompting me to ask, what was that?

Another unintelligible response. So I put my sandals on and walked over. Immediately I knew she was in rough shape. What couldn’t be seen twenty feet away was in plain sight and smell.

She asked if I wanted to buy her bike. I was more interested in why she was selling the bike?

I need the money. I gently repeated her statement … you need the money. She nodded and continued in a shaky voice, I’m homeless and hungry. I need to buy food.

I stood there for a few shocked seconds, not knowing what to say. What does one say to that, anyway? I felt my heart breaking in many pieces, being flung every which way.

I told her to keep her bike, went into the house, got some money and a bag of food for her. So many questions I wanted to ask and know. That I just didn’t know how to ask. I mean … how does one become homeless anyway? How does one end up with no one and no where to go?

I’ve been thinking of her all night, continuing to be flooded with emotions, thoughts and ideas. We live in a country that discards something like 30% of its food {I know this figure is more but I can’t find the exact percentage so I’m playing it safe}. WHY people are hungry is beyond me. How can we, as human beings, allow each other to go hungry?

I don’t know about you, but I think being able to eat and have a decent meal should be a given … just imagine if that was you having to worry about when your next meal would be, and where it would come from. In the midst of this — household after household in subdivisions and cities filled with food.

Look. I’m not saying everyone has tons of money and food to give away. What I am saying is that we all have something to give. If we gave what we could — even if this is one can of soup — imagine how quickly this would solve hunger!

There is a stigma attached to homelessness. I’ll be the first to admit that when I hear the word, I picture drunks and drug addicts. This is not fair. While I don’t know My Teacher’s story, and it quite possibly could be substance related for all I know, what I do know is that everyone deserves a chance.

I certainly would want someone to take a chance on me. I would certainly want someone to look at me and not see me as “homeless” but as a person.

I felt horribly sad for a good couple hours … worrying, fretting … wishing I had asked her to come back or given her more, but then I thought, at least I did something.

And this something has called me to more somethings. We are not hopeless nor helpless. I used to wait or think the responsibility was one someone else … my government or some other citizen … surely not me to do something … I’ll wait, someone else will do it.

No more waiting. That’s just it — if it’s not you and me doing these things, then who will? We don’t need to wait or wish someone else to take care of things. We can do it ourselves — by first taking care of each other.

This thing is not random. We are all connected, here together. We are not strangers, we are just forgotten brothers and sisters.