When I first met him--God forgive me--my reaction was one of apprehension and nervousness. His stringy, unkempt yellow-white hair framed a gaunt face whose toothless mouth seemed oddly oversized. His pale eyes darted nervously and gave no sign of being connected to an inner life or to the moment we were sharing.

His dirty clothes were layered to keep the night chill at bay, and his nervous fingers drummed an empty paper cup. His speech was rapid, at times incomprehensible, and those few words or phrases I could understand seemed more like a confused stream of consciousness than a conversation. How he found his way into my office remains a mystery, but the initial hesitant encounter became the first link of an ongoing friendship.

I don’t know a lot about him. I believe he was born in 1926 somewhere in Virginia, but I’m not absolutely sure. He told me his name and Social Security number, but there is some question about both. What I know for certain is that this confused, gentle man has made a connection with me, and I with him. I also know that I will never again be able to marginalize or “un-see” a homeless person.

If you think such a friendship is pointless and that in the world of the homeless there are no happy endings, you should know that my friend has found a home on the east side of Houston, and with the help from counselors he may soon receive his Social Security benefits. Each week my friend can be found worshipping at the El Bethel Mission in Midtown. Be patient with him and his indifferences. Greet him with a welcome and a smile.

And for those that believe angels regularly appear among us as messengers from a deeper, more holy reality, perhaps that is the role my friend is meant to play among us. Perhaps, he is here to remind us that we must never accept homelessness as a permanent fixture of modern life. There are solutions. Some of them are very obvious if we have the courage and compassion to find them.