One cold morning I wandered into a Chicago L station and stopped to talk to a homeless man. I asked him if I could get him anything what would it be and, in typical American fashion, he asked me for a coffee. I crossed the street to Dunkin and picked up a steaming hot cup and a sprinkle donut for good measure. When I walked back into the station he looked surprised to see me return. But after the shock had passed his face lit up with a smile. Then ensued the most life-changing conversation I've ever had.

It was during a mission trip in one of my favorite places in the world when I was given a very different view on life. I'd been given a morning to wander the city and talk to people. I wasn't asked to preach to the public, rather I was told to be open to a conversation. So that's how I found myself having a discussion with someone whose life is completely different than mine.

The man in the L station told me about how he was living a good life but then one day he got laid off. From there ensued the rapid progression of him losing his apartment and winding up living on the streets. He would beg for money and read the newspaper looking for job postings. But each day he had to make the choice between do I buy food or a train ticket to get to the job interview? Of course food takes precedent, so by the time he gathered enough money for the ticket and got to the listing, unfortunately, the job was already taken.

I stood there listening to this old man pour out his story and felt sad truly, but more than that I felt awed. Because through all of this the man kept saying " But I'll keep trying, and I'll keep praying." Then finally when he was done talking he said, "Well it's time for me to go now. God has blessed me so much today so I am taking the day off." He took his donut and walked right on out of the train station. Where he was going I have no idea. He just left. This man was so full of light despite what most of us would consider a horrible life.

There is an unfair stereotype surrounding homelessness in America. The stereotype that the news, the public, and even I buy into: that homeless people are merely lazy bums. Not people, no, they are eyesores and inconveniences on the route to work.

What I learned that morning in Chicago about how the other half lives, and how to still see the good in this horrible world, proves the story our culture tells us is a lie. Homeless people are not scary. They do not growl when you approach. Their situation most certainly is not cosmic revenge for something they did in the past. They are people with feelings just like us.

A year later, I went on another mission trip to Nashville. There I learned of a charity who allowed homeless individuals to use their address on job applications. See, what I had never realized, ironically having had three jobs myself, is that you have to have an address to apply for a job. Homeless people have no such address. Eventually, the businesses in Nashville discovered what this charity was doing and they blacklisted the address. Everyone who used it was immediately denied the job. We yell and scream about how poor people should just get jobs and work like the rest of us. Then we establish a system that doesn't allow them to get jobs. When did we start using hypocrisy to hide our disdain for people who we view as lesser?

Let me point out some other facts typically too uncomfortable for us to ponder on.

What happens when a woman is sleeping on the streets and the red devil comes calling? These are women who can't afford even one meal a day, in what world could they afford a pad to help control their period?

Have you ever experienced true hunger? The stomach retching, achy pains of the phantom longings for food in your belly?

What about torrential rains? Have you ever been forced to sleep outside, along with all of your belongings, soaking wet? Then even when the storm passes, not been able to peel off your sopping wet clothes and put them in the dryer?

I ask because I truly believe if you had experienced these things, or even taken the time to imagine them, that you would not be willing to say "they don't deserve our help because they won't help themselves." I do not think our humanity could take it.

This conversation, this 30 minutes with a stranger, in that random train station is the thing I think about every single day. Throughout the conversation, a smile never left his face. I have never witnessed such strength. And to think that this man, who most people would take one glance at and immediately forget, changed my life. If I hadn't had the courage to start a conversation with someone different than me I wouldn't be the person I am today.

The damaging stereotype that homeless people are dirty, lazy and worthless stops us from being open to a conversation with them.

I learned two things that fateful morning in Chicago. Yes, one was a lesson on society and how we automatically label people down on their luck. But the other was about myself, and how I personally am too quick to judge someone on their situation and not on the content of their character.

"The only measure of judging a human being is through that person's character, because character is not determined by race, religion, gender or social status. And one who recognizes this simple fact of human life behaves the same with the scientist, the janitor and the sex-worker."

― Abhijit Naskar, Human Making is Our Mission: A Treatise on Parenting

We will all face hardship, maybe we won't end up living on the streets of Chicago but it is going to get rough. Knowing the struggles we all face in some form or another, I ask you to be more sympathetic and willing to help. If this man living in an L station hasn't given up, then we most certainly shouldn't give up on him. Go out of your way, inconvenience yourself and take time to talk to other people about their paths in life. You may, dare I say, learn a little something about compassion that you didn't know before.