Feeding My Homeless Hombre

Sometimes It’s The Little Things

I’m not the richest bloke getting around, but I was brought up being reminded that there are always people in a worse place than yourself. These reminders would come usually when I was selfishly saying I didn’t like a certain vegetable on my plate (brussel sprouts!)

I remember my mother taking my dislikes to heart. A look of anguish would come over her face, her eyes lost their twinkling glow, her smile faded, and she would look as though completely stricken with insult and pain as she reminded me that, “starving children would KILL for this food in Africa.”

Immediately the guilt would well up inside of me, and I would learn to eat the brussel sprouts

People sleeping on the streets here in London are not in a very good place

After winning a couple hundred pounds from writing something to Men’s Health magazine, I was able to buy a hot meal and drink for a homeless guy who was always sitting by where I was working that week. I had a spare blanket at home that I wasn’t using either, so that seemed like a useful direct donation to this fellow.

If we could all sit down, have a chat with someone in a worse situation than our own, and share a feed with them once in a while, perhaps they could find their way back onto their own two feet as well.

It didn’t leave me destitute – but I’m sure it made a difference to him that someone would stop and take the time for a chat and to give him a good feed.