Picture-less Post #32: one of them, one of us


I just saw an old man in dirty rugged clothes crossing the street of Buendia in Makati. He was crossing with us; we, in corporate attire, ready to begin another boring day at work. 

Helplessness. That’s how I felt when I saw him. I wondered if he has or had a family. I wondered what happened and what put him in the streets. I wondered if there will be people that would help him.

Idealistic. That’s how I was when I was back in college. I thought I could help change the world. Or do a little thing that might create a ripple effect to positively help our dying world. Keyword: was.

Most people don’t tend to approach dirty, in-need, who have apparent mental illness person that we see in the streets. 

I thought I was different. I was not. I was also one of them. Those people who feels helpless at first but chooses to ignore and reason out that we have our own priorities. That we are also in need but we thrive. I am one of them. And I feel guilty about it.

These words that I write while sitting inside a church, wouldn’t matter. This is just me blabbering and wondering if Jesus was walking the earth today, what miracle would he do? What will he do to us, selfish people. Isn’t not our responsibility to give a hand? 

Ranting. This is what this is. Though, I think a little prayer wouldn’t hurt, right?

I do believe in miracles. It won’t be me who first casts the net but I pray someone will. 

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