Homelessness In Utah

I woke up to the sound of my Yoda alarm clock going off. It was 8:30 am which means I
got to sleep in longer than usual, but I always want more sleep. It’s a sunday which means my
mom baked something for breakfast this morning. I can smell the pumpkin as I walk out of my
room into the hallway which means she made my favorite pumpkin scones. My brother had just
woken up too so we both went into the kitchen to eat breakfast with our mom and dad. After
breakfast we all get dressed and ready to go to church. Our church is downtown which I don’t
like because it always seems sort of dirty and there’s always a lot of people. It’s a cool spring
morning with the sun just starting to shine down and warm me up. I thought to myself about how
nice this time of year was, but I don’t like mornings because it feels like it always takes too long
to warm up.
When I get inside I go downstairs for sunday school. Even though I would’ve liked to
sleep in for another hour or two it was good to see all my friends. I don’t remember learning very
much in Sunday school, but I was alright with that because it was fun to see my friends every
week and everyone at my church was really nice.
After Sunday school was over it was time for the actual church service so we all headed
up stairs. When I sat down in my seat next to my mom I looked back and noticed a man in the
back doing what looked like karate. He had a shaggy beard and long tangled hair kept back by a
headband. He had a big jacket on and baggy brown pants that didn’t look like they had been
washed in many years. His eyes were wide and he was quickly looking back and forth as if
something was about to pop out and attack him. He had a cast on his right ankle and he was
kicking it around in the air every so often. Although he didn’t look very put together especially for
a church, I was impressed at how controlled and high he was able to kick his injured foot.
“Mom, what’s that guy doing back there?” I was curious what somebody like that was
doing in our church since the only people I had ever seen that looked like him were the people
on the side of the street with cardboard signs.
“I’m not sure but hopefully he’ll grab some coffee and snacks while listening to the
church service. It’s good for us to reach out to people who may not have a place to sleep and
give them somewhere comfortable to be where they feel welcome. Many homeless people like
him have mental health issues that make it hard for them to get a job and buy a house.” (Utah
Priorities)
My mom was always nice to people no matter what they looked like or what their way of
life was. I didn’t really understand why some people couldn’t afford to buy a house like we could,
but I was glad he was able to spend a couple hours at our church and get some food. After that
he would come back most Sundays and I learned his name was Richard, which I thought was
funny because that was also the name of my uncle. Eventually he stopped coming back and I
will always remember the first time I saw him doing karate in the back of our church, and how
my mom said we should always be kind and help those who have less than us.