One Letter

At a crowded intersection in rush hour, a man held a sign. My view was blocked by a few cars, but it looked like the sign said "Hopeless."

When the light turned green, I saw that the sign actually read "Homeless," as I would have expected.

All morning, I've been struck by the fact that a single letter is all that separates homeless from hopeless. Even the homeless man had hope this morning -- standing at the street corner, hoping someone would give. The homeless man seemed -- well -- hopeful.

But a lot of hopeless people have a home.

I wonder if I would rather be hopeless or homeless. I think I'd rather be homeless. In fact, I think that's a pretty easy call.

And isn't it interesting (as the Ragamuffins' lyrics say) that "the hope of the whole world rests on the shoulders of a homeless man."