Rolling down the window in December

I sit at the stoplight, behind the shiny car with the "Spoiled Bitch" sticker. He is limping in the median, like he does every day. He moves slowly up and down the long turn lane at this apparently lucrative intersection. It hurts to watch him walk.

I fish around in my pockets for a little money. The light cycle is on our side today, so I roll the window down as he moves close to my car and hand him the coins. We nod at each other, like always. The arrow turns green and I follow the spoiled bitch into the intersection. I wonder if she has ever rolled her window down for anyone.


Our city is full of homeless individuals, struggling with mental illness, substance abuse, past traumas, and so many other things. It gets very cold here. People pitch tents and tarps in plazas and line up outside churches in the afternoon, hoping for a meal.

Sharing at the stoplight may not be the most sustainable way to give, so we try to help in other ways, too. But I think rolling down the window sometimes is really important. When you see the same individuals-- face to face-- day after day, it keeps you present in the reality that this doesn't just go away. What looks to us like an unbearable crisis is just a continuation of daily life for another. That is true for so many of our fellow humans.

Let us always remember to roll down the window in one way or another.