Today I lost another piece of my heart. That’s what I feel when I meet someone who just makes me want to weep.
Today I met Constantine….a proud man with a proud name. He tells me he is seventy years young. He tells me he is a descendant of Constantine the Great. He is Romanian he says and has been here for many years, fleeing persecution in his native land. He says his family left behind is better off without him, he must leave so they can be safe. He tells me he has been here for many years but has only been on the streets a few months. He says that mold was discovered in his apartment, that it was making him sick but no one did anything about it. He tells me he suffered a small stroke and that scared him. He left his apartment, for good. Now he’s on the streets. He has trouble finding food that he can eat because he can’t cook on the streets and his doctor has told him to not eat salt as it’s making him sick. His legs are swollen from water retention. He prays. He thanks God he says every morning when he wakes up. Thanks Him that he made it through another night. He’s cold. He’s wearing three jackets and three scarves today but he is still cold. He says he has lost about fifty pounds since September, since he’s been on the streets. He says he has hope though. He’s pretty sure he’ll be getting another place in a couple of weeks. He prays it is mold free. I pray it is too Constantine.
There is something wrong with this world when we allow a seventy year old man with multiple health issues to sleep on the street.
Today I lost another piece of my heart. I think maybe God did too……