I sit here currently, inside a warm hotel room. It’s currently -11 outside with the wind chill in Manhattan. The harsh reality is that while I lay here, in my warm suite…with a couch, two TVs and a shower, there are probably hundreds of people freezing outside at the current moment.
I couldn’t imagine a more harsh place to call home in the winter when homeless than NYC. The cold here can cut you with a knife. It’s not even the cold, it’s the wind. The force of the wind coming thru the cross streets is nearly paralyzingly.
I am so grateful for what I have. For what I’ve done. But I have a sense of “survivors guilt.” What is the difference between these people outside on the streets freezing, and me? Not much. We are all human. I’m so grateful. But haunted. It pains my heart to know that people are suffering outside while I sleep in comfort.
I hate that there is next to nothing I can do to solve this. My pitiful contribution was buying a man begging outside my hotel a hot meal (he insisted on a #1 from McDonald’s and a hot tea). You would have thought he won the lottery.
Why me, and why him. This is something I can’t answer but feel so guilty for.
All I can do is pray. Sometimes, there is little left in our power than that.