When I Visited England

On the edge of the Cotswolds in the South-West region of England is Cheltenham. A beautiful spa town bustling with workers, shoppers and buskers. As I first approached High Street I was amazed. We walked ten minutes, being led by my boyfriend, as we got closer there was High Street. It was as if a mini New York City were in England, minus the skyscrapers. Cheltenham is a place I had gotten to know almost like my own neighborhood. However, there was a big difference between the town I grew up in and Cheltenham.

I live in a small town in Upstate New York. To get from one place to another you need a car. Where I live I'm not even sure if a city bus comes out this far into town. In Cheltenham everything you need is right there. Malls, pubs, cafes, restaurants and shops. You walk down streets that, around here, would be considered blocked off. Large expanses of wide road just for people. Money for charities being raised, music, flowers and salsa lessons right on the street.

After awhile you start to notice more. The way the town looks at night during the weekend, when the pubs and clubs are open, people getting KFC, Fish and Chips or Pizza. Garbage, vomit and broken bottles litter the ground and ATM receipts are like snow every few expanses of street. I saw a woman barefoot, carrying her heels, her feet hurt too much, but The Good Samaritans saw her and handed the woman a pair of flip flops. The next morning it was cleaned and it looked as if a party never happened. I'm sure if I drove into my town and walked the streets often I would see the same.

Having the chance to see the beautiful architecture, flowers and this new way of life made me realize how I didn't know my own town. Here, I drive by the homeless, I'm warm in my car but I don't hear the laughing or yelling. Images flying by my window. In this small town in New York I chose what I want to be around. At a red light, a bum holding a sign. Do you give money or do you look away?

I hear people talk about having to go and poop scoop their backyard. In Cheltenham you learn to dodge it on the street. You feel the the difference in temperature, the shade is so cool and the sun is just warm enough. When it is cold out the wind is sharp and cutting. The dampness is felt in your bones. Here in New York I am in constant control of the temperature I want to be surrounded by. When walking you don't have as much control, you learn to adapt. I saw people carrying heavy purchases home. There were no pick up trucks and mini vans like you see in my town.

With all this new walking, strangers became familiar. The homeless became familiar too. Often I would see people talking to them and police talking to them too. I saw many acts of kindness. Acts of kindness that probably happen here but I am not there to see it. Not acts of kindness like moving the shopping cart out of the way for someone trying to park there car. Or throwing a dollar into a charity box. Cheltenham seemed to be a large family.

There was a bank on High Street that has a gap so many feet apart from each ATM. In one of these spaces lived a homeless man. From what I saw many people knew him. Everyday I wanted to help him but wasn't sure how. I thought, Should I give him money or food? Does he like coffee or tea? Will he get upset with me if I help him? Should I buy him a blanket? Days passed and all those same questions came whirling around my head every time I saw him.

It was a mild day and I went to meet my boyfriend at work. I wandered around High Street for a bit and when I turned around I saw the space where the homeless man lived. I saw flowers and stuffed animals. He died. I wanted to walk over but was frozen with fear, fear of my curiosity in front of hundreds people. Once I met up with my boyfriend, I told him. We went out at night days later, I made him a sign to place with all the other tokens of remembrance.

The sign read: "I walked past you many times. I thought of ways I could help. Tomorrow I will. Tomorrow I will.Tomorrow I will. Then tomorrow never came. For that I am sorry. You taught me a great lesson. Teachers are all around us if we take the time to look". (and in my case act) A few days later we went out to High Street and I noticed the flowers were starting to die. My boyfriend knew it was still on my mind. I took a picture. I went back again and everything was gone, the flowers, the sign, the stuffed animal and little notes. High Street was empty. I sat where he lay during the night and I took photos of the view he had.

A homeless man, with no name, a voice I never heard, a conversation I never had, left a moral impact on me. My heart wanted to help but I worried about all the 'What Ifs', I even questioned my safety. Back home I drive by the homeless. In Cheltenham you get to know them, you see the life they live. They become human beings, not a stereotype, not what you see on television. This homeless man was a human being. He doesn't know the insight he has left me. I think back seeing him sitting up trying to keep warm, wrinkled hands from years of the elements beating on his skin with his head down.

He may have left this world thinking he was rejected, maybe he was the happiest man in the world. I don't know. I do know that this nameless man, with no voice I've heard, will be remembered always. Now I need to take a walk in my town.