From my position, it is difficult to say that any Houston night is common. Moving from an extremely sheltered area, The Woodlands, I perceived Houston as the majority of people would not. For almost eighteen years of my life, I thought that everyone in the world owned luxury cars and lived in beautiful houses located in peaceful neighborhoods. I was never exposed to criminals or different races. I never knew what poverty was and the conditions that these people were under. All of my life it has seemed as if I have been living a dream, receiving any thing I would ever desire; having my own car and town house. But this contorted view would be changed forever on that hazy Houston night.

Previously that day, Stephanie, my best friend and I were, as usual, driving home to Houston, where I own a t

own house, after spending the weekend in The Woodlands with our families. It was not out of the ordinary to spot homeless men holding signs that begged for money on these trips. For the most part, cars passing by tend to disregard these pleads for help, and I must admit I frequently do to. But for some reason one homeless man constantly caught my eye. I saw him nearly every day for a month straight, and each day he wore the same shabby garments. His appearance was anything but clean. He appeared to be a middle aged black man whose hair and face were shaggy and saturated with sweat droplets. An old sweat and filth stained t-shirt hung floppily off his skeleton like structure. His jeans, torn and frayed, appeared to be almost four sizes to big. He held a sign saying “Homeless, Hungry, Please help and God bless.” Stereotyped by others, his appearance left no room for any optimism. But there is something that I always noticed, it was in his eye, something that helped me glimpse past his tattered outer shell. It was if a beacon of hope was concealed.

Later that night Stephanie and I decided to help this man. After pondering about the situation, we determined it would be best to buy the homeless man food. In a bag we packed several bottled water, crackers, bread, peanut butter and other food items. Although we were both terrified that the man would put our

Some topics in this essay:
Hungry Please, , houston night, town house,