Hearts Of Compassion

"Are you okay?" someone asked from behind her.

She turned and faced a man in a sweatshirt and jeans, certain he was homeless, too. His chin was covered in stubble and he looked exhausted. He was muscular and sexy, with light brown hair, blue eyes, and strong facial features. But he was lower class, in her mind, because she was sure he was homeless.

Rylee raised her nose slightly, in her mother's upper class snottiness. "I'm fine. I think you belong over there…with your kind."

"My kind?" He raised one eyebrow, almost chuckling while he crossed his arms. "What kind would that be?"

"The homeless." She pointed ahead of her. "Over there."

He raked his eyes down over her, almost in cruel judgment. "No one wears dresses here…or heels. Are you lost?"

"No, we've been assigned here from the city. I'm with Grahame Designs, but you probably don't know anything about that." She waved him off, ignoring him.

"Is that right?" He chuckled, his arms still crossed. "I organized your trip here, and I'm going to be your boss for the next week."

"You? Who are you?"

He reached out to shake her hand.
"Ben Colson. I'm the lawyer for the Guardian Home for the Needy."

She shook his hand, feeling confused. "I don't know your name. I thought you were a homeless—"

He leaned closer, and she realized he didn't smell like the rest of the room. He'd showered recently, the scent of the soap filling her nose. "We call them clients. They're people, too."

"Are you sure?" she whispered. "They almost seem crazy to me."

He chuckled, put his hand on her back and walked her toward the table. "Not at all. They're people and God loves them, too. They're down on their luck and you never know when it could happen to any one of us. This job is so important and rewarding, much more than my regular law practice. You'll figure it out, eventually."

"I don't think I ever will. I can't imagine either of us ever being a client here."

"But you just thought I was a client? It can happen to any of us." He grinned, then pointed toward a man sitting by himself in the corner. "See that man over there? He used to run a multi-million dollar corporation in Boston. His accountant stole all his money, leaving him with nothing. The economy turned bad, and his company went bankrupt. He was fired with nothing to his name and his wife left him, taking everything he should've had, including his dignity. She had another man on the side, but he had nothing. We're helping him build up his self-confidence and teaching him a skill so he can start over again." He pointed toward a woman, sitting at a table with her eyes closed. "Her family was killed in a house fire. She had nothing left, and because she'd been a stay-at-home mom for so long, she had no skills. She ended up losing everything because they didn't have good homeowner's insurance, and now walks the streets begging for cash. We're helping her learn how to use her cooking skills to get a job. And over there—"

"I get it. These people are down on their luck. But I can never get there. I have family. Don't these people have family to help them out, or the government or something?"

He chuckled, walking her toward the food line. "I want you to understand this, because it's going to help your company help us. They're proud people and don't like asking for help. Either that, or their family refuses to help them. As for the government, they can get some money, but not enough to make it. People shouldn't depend on the government." He leaned closer. "It could happen to any of us, no matter what we have right now. You never know."

"I see." She doubted that would ever happen, even if she had bad luck.