I don't have anything.

On a blustery Saturday afternoon, I walk along the sidewalk, approaching a homeless person. The unshaved face of a man peers towards me, and he reaches his hand out. He wears gloves with holes, which are wrapped around a coffee-stained paper cup jingling with a few coins. He mumbles at me. His toothless mouth barely murmurs the words, but I respond anyways: "I'm sorry, I don't have anything."

I continue on my walk and those words hang in the air.

My feet hurt in the heels I chose to wear. The tall, crinkly leather boots, warming me to my knees. The boots my parents bought for me a few Christmases ago. I have several pairs of shoes, so if these bother me, I can go home and change into a variety of others.

I have a warm coat on my back and money in my purse. I have a credit card and a driver's license. I don't have a car, but if I wanted to, I could buy one on a loan. I could get a loan. I have a job, and it's in a career that I enjoy.

I have a craving for a drink. I am not thirsty. I could definitely survive with this hankering. I could suppress it if I wanted to. It was more of a want than a need.

I walk another block towards my apartment. I have an apartment. I have a heated shelter, that I sometimes choose not to heat so I can save money. I use that money to splurge myself. I buy things for my hobbies, like skateboarding or doing crafts. I can have hobbies, because I have the time.

I have friends who share in my hobbies. I have a best friend who trusts me and whom I trust. We can keep each other company, but we can stay apart and know that we will be able to see each other again. We share common interests and a background. We have known each other for a long time, and we will know each other for many more years.

We met in school. I have an education. I went to school, and I graduated from school. I can read. I can write. I can speak two languages. I have traveled abroad to practice that non-native language. I have friends and families who live in other countries who reach out to me to share special moments in their lives, and with whom I can share mine.

I have a family with whom I keep in touch and wishes no harm to me. I have a family whom I can call if something bad were to happen, and they would drive 30 miles to help me. If they were farther, they would get on an airplane or on a train or in a car to get to me. They call on a regular basis just to check on me. They care about my well-being.

I don't live very close to my family, but I do live somewhat near them. I can have independence. I have independence. I can live alone, with no desperate reliance on another. I have rights. I have privacy. I can vote on my leaders. I can boycott things. I can express my opinion without fear of physical harm.

I continue to walk.

I can walk. I have two legs. I have two arms, which I can use to hug the people I love and who love me. I have lungs that breathe, eyes that see, ears that hear and a mouth that speaks. I have my mental health, or so I believe. I have ten fingers and ten toes, which function perfectly well.


He may also have a family and a home to go to, but I don't know for sure. I do know that I most definitely do not have nothing.


This essay was first published by Melissa Weinmann on inyournaturahabitat.blogspot.com