Last week I reported on a few things I had experienced while getting to know individuals in the homeless population of New York City. To follow up, I wish to report on the most touching, sobering experiences I've had while doing so. These are a few encounters that stood out in my mind, which I did not mention in last week's article. For example, talking to a man without any shoes. Encountering a cardboard "village" of the homeless in front of a large church. Meeting homeless women who are my age (and even younger). These are all experiences I've had here in New York City.

The man without any shoes I met in a Manhattan train station. Barefoot, he told me that he had a little food he had fished out of the trash, and my boyfriend gave him some bottled water to help endure the hot, July day. The look of sincerity on his face when we as much as spoke to him made me cry. Why, in a city such as this, would a human being be forced to eat from a garbage bin, barefoot and alone in a train station full of other people? I just could not understand it. I still can't, to be honest. Though I didn't speak to this man for an extended amount of time, his words still haunt me. "I have a little food, I found it in the trash."

Cardboard "villages" of homeless men and women can typically be found in larger, metropolitan areas. Here in NYC, I encountered one of these villages in front of a large church. Stunned, I stopped and took it all in. A young man was lying asleep on the ground, a cardboard cot for a bed, beneath a statue of a sitting beggar, sporting a large plaque that read "Matthew 25:40 'I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’" As I met and spoke with some of the men in this community, I couldn't shake the image from my mind of the man sleeping beneath the beggar statue. I didn't wake him— rest is a precious commodity for the homeless— so I didn't get the chance to speak with him, but the image rang loud and clear in my mind.

Among the most shocking things I've seen in this city is the amount of young, homeless women who cannot be more than twenty years in age. No older than myself— a "kid" who still largely relies on her parents for love and moral support— these women had no one. Blankets, a few personal items, and usually a backpack sprawled out before them as they attempt to get some rest, these women do not even have the luxury of meeting their basic hygienic needs. Bathrooms in the city are typically not public (usually "for customers only" to keep out the homeless) and finding a shred of privacy on the streets is nearly impossible. Washing yourself, shaving, brushing your teeth, etc. becomes a nearly impossible task when you are forced to live on the streets. Without meeting these basic hygienic necessities it is much harder to procure a job, or meet other people and make lasting, meaningful connections. No one wants to deal with the "dirty" homeless girl on the sidewalk— that's simply a harsh reality of our world, and it is desperately unfair.

Witnessing all of this makes the gears in my brain turn endlessly; why am I so lucky, when others are so unfortunate? There are people on this earth— many here in this city— who barely make it through each day. There are people who suffer from lack of meeting their physical needs, emotional needs, basic hygienic needs, and so forth. How, in a world so abundant with resources, do the more fortunate ones of us let this happen? One word: apathy. I am guilty of it myself. We, as a society, become apathetic to those around us. We look out for "number one," and care less about the rest. This has to stop. Something has got to give. We cannot, as a global economy and marketplace, continue to allow the ultra-rich to get richer while the poor die of starvation.