This morning I rolled into work and noticed something I’ve seen often over the years, but haven’t seen for a while. There was a man fast asleep in front of our building right beside the front door.
When I hopped out of my vehicle I thought the sound of the slamming door might wake him up, but he didn’t budge. I went over and said good morning, basically to check if the guy was still alive. He was. Whenever I see this I always think of the song by Craig Morgan Called “Almost Home.”
I wondered what he was dreaming about while he was asleep. Was he dreaming of better days when he was a kid, running around the front yard with all of his friends before being called in for supper by his mom? Was he dreaming about his first school crush or driving his first car? Maybe he was dreaming of a wonderful family vacation he wishes he could have back just one more time. I almost feel guilty waking these people up and bringing them back to the harsh reality of the situation they currently find themselves in. It breaks my heart to see this.
At this point I knew he was alive, which was all I cared about.
Then I did what I always do in that situation. I ran into the station and brewed the guy up a cup of hot coffee. Then I dipped into my parking stash and bought a bag of chips.
By the time I got back out to the front of the station the guy was up and mobile. I told him if he ever needs a hot coffee at 3 in the morning, I’m here at that time every weekday. He thanked me for the coffee and chips and made his way down the street, destination, probably unknown, even to him.
Good luck my friend.
