The changing of the seasons from summer to fall, from warm to cool (and, for some odd reason this week, cold and rainy) always make me a bit sad. I can't help but think about all of the homeless people that I walk by on a daily basis. As I run with water splashing my boots, afraid to get my hair wet, wishing I had worn a thicker scarf, I think about the guy who sits outside the McDonalds, or the woman who wanders the Metro station, or the couple that sits in the bushes outside of the Safeway - they didn't get to run home to pick up their jacket, get an umbrella, and switch to a long sleeved shirt. The colors on the leaves don't make them eager for for pumpkin pie and apple cider. And they don't get to enjoy a chilly rainy Saturday like me -in the comfort of their warm apartment, curled up with a cup of hot cocoa and a newspaper.
Its strange but for some reason, out of all of the statistics that I hear on a daily basis, the anti-poverty organizations that I work with, and the rallies that I shout in, nothing reminds me of how much America must do better, quite like the changing of the seasons.