Personal Struggles Of Being Homeless

I’ve never been homeless, but in my life my family has created personal bonds with a few homeless people. When I was really young and living in my first house, a man, whose name I can’t remember, lived with us for awhile. I didn’t think of much of it other than that I was not allowed to go in his room or touch his things because that was impolite. I didn’t know that he was homeless because I was too young to understand the concept of homelessness, but also because my parents treated him as they would anyone else. He had his own room and things, and we respected his privacy as you would any other roommate. He was very kind. He smiled a lot and the few times that I did interact with him I felt entirely comfortable. Even though I was not aware
Francis Dining Hall. I’ll be honest, when 4pm rolled around and it was time to go, I was reluctant. I wanted to go home, get my homework done and enjoy some tv. I felt guilty for feeling that way, especially when my service for that day was done and I got to go home to a warm house and dinner. In my service, I received many warm thank yous and an obvious appreciation for what little time I was giving to these homeless people. It was extremely humbling to serve food to tables of people in situations I cannot even begin to understand and to receive gratitude unlike any
I had to spoon on the tiniest amount of mashed potatoes because we needed to make sure there was enough for everyone. When I looked down at the amount I was told to give, I pictured myself at home, serving myself way more than that. I always wanted to scoop more than I was supposed to and even got yelled at for putting too much a few times. Homeless people deserve so much more than they receive, but at the very least I think they should get a hefty plate of food before they have to sleep outside in the cold.
I remember one night it was very rainy, as is the norm for Portland. At the end of my two hour slot of service, everyone ran outside, rushing and shoving to get into the car and out of the rain. Immediately after sitting down in the car, I was overwhelmed with shame. A long line of homeless people waiting outside had watched us rush into the car; they were all standing there, still in the cold rain. I went home that night and truly appreciated my dry, warm home and