Homelessness Guilt

Every morning when I walk to the Bart station to work, I pass by a number of homeless people. I might smile a little at a few of them, but I do not make direct eye contact out of natural fear. Sadly, I choose to never give them money because I am just not sure where the money will go - towards a drug or drinking habit, towards something that is less desirable in life, or towards a legitimate need like food and water. I just don't know. It's those few dishonest ones who ruin it for the ones who are truly just trying to survive on a donated nickle.

I wonder to myself, how did their lives get like that? I mean, it could happen to the best of us with just a stroke of bad luck, a string of unfortunate events, it could happen to you to me if we didn't have any family or friends to rely on when we found ourselves in a bad spot. It is sad. But then, I think, that I earned my place in this world by educating myself and by working myself up the career ladder, I shouldn't feel guilty for having what I have as it was not just handed to me.

I don't know, I feel a little torn every morning. I could spare a dollar here and a dollar there, but there are too many homeless people who beg for those dollars on a daily basis, how can this problem be truly satisfied if it's merely covered by a temporary band-aid of a few cents from my pocket to an unfortunately, unlucky homeless man? Is he/she ever going to help himself off the streets?