An immoral status quo

Sometimes, though nowhere near often enough, I volunteer at Shepherd's Table, a services facility for homeless people about a mile and a half from where I am fortunate to be housed

- JONATHAN KRONSTADT

Lately, I've been doing the breakfast shift, as it gets me out early and seems to be when they need volunteers the most.

Normally, I'm on dish duty, but that morning my job was to stand at the door and tally, which meant I got a good, long look at each of the 120 people who came in. They were young and old, black, brown and white, mostly men but about 15 women, and one teenager who came in with his mum.

What they had in common was that they all looked tired. Not sleepy tired, though I'm sure they were that, too; this was a weariness that hung on them like a horse collar. I get tired a lot, but not this kind of tired.

Many of them seemed hyper-aware too, as they must be to survive the dangers that come with living outdoors.

Their eyes darted around, even though this was one of the few places they were actually welcome.

It was like being a greeter at the world's saddest Walmart. I'd eke out a "Welcome, enjoy your meal" on the way in, and after realising that "Have a nice day" was an absurd goodbye, I quickly switched to a simple "Take care".