This is Julia and Mike. They live in a truck, with two of their (adult) disabled children. Yes, that's right, the four of them live in a pick-up truck with a camper shell.
Let that sink in.
Four people, one of whom is in a wheelchair, live in a truck. They have no other options. The puppy is a stray that adopted them. They couldn't leave it homeless, so they took it in. Ironic, isn't it?
They didn't always live in a truck, they once had a home.
Mike is a disabled veteran who served in the Army in Vietnam. Julia is a wife and a mom. They've been married over 20 years, and have four children altogether.
They've been through hell together. Together, they are still there.
They once owned a home, not too far from the corner where I found them. Due to Julia's progressive illness, (before being formally diagnosed) the cost of hospitalizations, doctor's visits and medicines tore through what little savings they had. Mike, a disabled veteran, had a bustling business as a handyman. For years, they were doing pretty well. They saved enough to purchase their home outright, and had a pretty decent life.
Until Huntington's Disease
He tells me that Julia has Huntington's disease, a fatal genetic disorder that causes the progressive breakdown of nerve cells in the brain. It thoroughly and pervasively deteriorates a person's entire being, until there is nothing left.
Julia is in the latter stages, and although she finds it difficult to speak, she says it all with her eyes. The light still shines brightly, and she has retained all of her dignity. She is beautiful, inside and out.
Julia's illness seemed to come out of nowhere. It's onset was as insidious as it was aggressive. Mike had to take time off from his business to tend to Julia and her appointments. She had lost the ability to walk. They got behind on their property taxes. Soon, the city stepped in and "repossessed" their home, a home they had OWNED for years. They, along with their two remaining "adult" children, were summarily evicted.
Shortly before the eviction, their two younger children were taken by "Child Protective Services."
He says the moment Julia was diagnosed with Huntington's disease, CPS showed up, told Julia she was "unable to care for her children," and that was that. They immediately removed the children from their home.
Julia and Mike have not seen their children since.
According to Mike, the children were well taken care of, well fed, and well provided for. Julia nods energetically in agreement with him. There was no abuse or neglect, CPS had taken the children because Julia could no longer walk. She had to use a wheelchair.
Julia loves her sign. It says, "When did we stop caring about each other? Please help."
As he relates this, Julia begins to cry. It is impossible to hold back my own tears. I kneel and hold her hand as Mike tells me the rest of the story.
After the children were taken, but before the eviction, Julia spent what little energy she had left attempting to work with CPS to get her children back. The agency made the parents attend "parenting classes," and required Julia, a woman with a progressive, incurable disease, to attend physical therapy sessions.
Evidently, CPS had decided that "walking" was a key requirement of parenting.
Julia may not say much, but she has an eye-roll that can be heard loud and clear. I agree with her that CPS is ridiculous, and squeeze her hand.
Mike tells me they are locked in a continual battle with CPS to get their kids back. His fondest wish at the moment is to let Julia see her children before, "You know," as he nods her in her direction, but neither of them have any idea where the kids are, or what to do next.
They've exhausted every avenue. Now, they stand in the middle of the boulevard trying to earn enough for a room for the night.
Julia only receives Medicaid, and a small sum of $200 a month in disability benefits. The sum is much smaller than it should be, because Julia and Mike owned a home, and a truck. The home was taken by the state, but still counted as an asset for the couple. Mike, a disabled veteran gave up on collecting his disability benefits long ago. He jokes that his free crutch is the only benefit the VA ever gave him. He tells me he has tried many times to get the benefits due him, but it's one big bureaucratic mess. He says, "They just wear ya down, til ya give up." He's entitled to approximately $6,000 to $8,000 a month, as a veteran of the Vietnam War. Vets often give up on their benefits, due to the difficulty of getting them. It's not like he has the time, anyway.
Being homeless is not a moral failing, not caring about it IS.
In between the homelessness, caring for his disabled wife and children, and hobbling around on a crutch himself, he is trying to slay the CPS dragon for his beloved Julia. It is a hard fought battle he is likely to lose. He is a Wounded Warrior, deserving of the highest honors, and the utmost respect, but instead, here he stands in the meridian, begging for spare change. The people passing by have no idea they have just overlooked a true American Hero.
As I left, I turned back and happened to catch this bittersweet moment. It is etched in my memory forever.
I saw Mike some weeks later. He asked if I had any more signs. He said the signs worked really well. A kind soul with connections had stopped and helped Julia, while she was holding her "caring" sign. He told me the lady had gotten Julia into a hospice-type care facility. I didn't have the heart to ask about the children.
If you are like me, and have the heart to give, but not the resources, then this idea is for you. Maybe you could make a few signs. While you are passing them out, I guarantee you, you will make some new friends.
Can one sign make a difference?
Maybe.
Can many signs make a change?
We'll see.
"...most of the time if you see someone pan handling- it took an awful lot to get them to stoop that low. It is extremely degrading to stand on the street and beg, you really have to summon strength from I don't even know where. When you hear their story, remember there's so much more than there is time to tell, and you will never hear the worst parts."
I invite you to make a few signs.
If that's all you can do, you may change the world in ways you never thought possible!
The first post explaining "Better Signs," can be found here:
(Original photos by me, such as they are)
Thanks so much to the #newbieresteemday initiative, to 
"Do what you can, with what you have, where you are." ~ Theodore Roosevelt