A letter to a homeless stranger on a cold night

A reflection on why people turn away from those who desperately need help  or a simple act of kindness

Dear Stranger,

You caught me off guard as I blew out of the coffee shop on that cold, windy, wintry night. Your words – “Please help me. I’m homeless – barely registered as I headed for my destination. I was also cold and intent on keeping moving.

Obviously, I didn’t think – in the moment – about how much worse the cold would affect you. I rushed to the shelter of my car then to my warm home. Both offered me sources of heat and protection from the forces of nature and human frailty.

How did you get through that night? I have often wondered.

Image by Jonathan Cooper via Unsplash

You were young and slight. Your thin voice reflected how tried and hopeless you felt. To have someone turn away from you must have been awful.

What could I have offered you? A few dollars so you could buy a warm drink and stay in that coffee shop for an hour or so? A ride to a shelter? Sanctuary in my home?

None of those seem like enough. You probably needed a rewind and do-over with better parents or whatever derailed your life.

That powerlessness is likely what pushed me to unconsciously brush you off. You can probably relate to having no sense of control over a situation.

Yet, I could have been more kind. I could have apologized for having nothing to offer. Nothing meaningful.

I’m sorry.

What I did seems inhumane in retrospect. You deserve better from every person you meet.

If I were in your shoes, I would feel so angry and disappointed that no one cares. That sentiment would land on top of the hunger and loneliness already making your evening difficult.

I wonder where your guardians and friends are. Why you’re out there alone.

If the Elizabeth Fry Society has helped you yet.

If you have shelter or still wander all night.

If you are safe.

How many others have also avoided your pleas for help on the street and elsewhere.

As I read about the encampments being torn down and individuals’ belongings  being treated like trash, my mind always goes to you. It makes me feel sick to think of how City officials are making life worse for people who already have so little.

And it comes as no surprise that the temporary shelter in Peterborough’s north end has yet to be used.

Despite my callous behaviour toward you, I have spent hours of time talking with others who face the same plight. They have explained in detail why they don’t trust certain shelters and won’t go there.

They don’t feel safe due to some of the people there. The rules don’t safeguard them enough. They expect to face judgment or worry about their belongings being stolen.

That last one probably matters less for those whose possessions ended up in a City dump truck. Why anyone would add to the trauma of a person who has suffered so much just boggles my mind.

What’s unbelievable is the city councillors who let it happen. Why would they endorse such cruelty? I know they get phone calls from residents who feel uncomfortable seeing suffering on Peterborough’s streets.

When people tell me that, I launch into my tirade about the good fortune to have a life where you don’t have to worry about where you are sleeping tonight. That changes the tone of the conversation pretty quickly.

This City should treat its people far better. That doesn’t let everyday people like me off the hook for my actions. We can all take a few minutes to be more thoughtful and considerate.

I’m genuinely sorry.

(Originally published in the Peterborough Examiner in September 2025)