My New Commute - Character 4

The homeless man at the top of the escalator is a faceless greeting to the day. He stands, or rather leans over, between the up and the down stairs, his graying hair askew, a ragged beard, his clothes in disarray, reeking as the daily commuters pass by. He often clutches a paper cup or a cigarette, but just as often his head lays down on the metal as if on a pillow. He is a test of my humanity. I hold my nose; I turn my eyes away. Yet I wonder - is he alive? how could he assume that posture? He does not beg, and I give him nothing, not even sympathy. He lives in this entry way with overhead shelter and a corner where a blanket is often thrown down. It is complex to understand the motivation and behavior of human beings, especially when they are so far removed from the norm one experiences. He challenges my compassion, but in passing him by I fail in my role as a Good Samaritan. There is a limit to my goodness. I have crossed the line between caring and callousness. My charity has boundaries. While I give him nothing, he gives me a daily reminder the privileges of my life have obligations that I have not met.