He sat on the corner, had long stringy hair and wore a veteran's cap on his head that read "Vietnam Veteran." He had a dog sitting right beside him; the wind was howling as it was pouring down rain. I found myself wondering how it would feel to have to sleep out in the rain, to be soaked to the skin and so cold that you are literally in pain. I couldn't fathom what it would feel like to have nothing to eat in this overfed country, having to search in dumpsters for anything half eaten to eat. How one must feel to have no one or a country he once served to care, to lie each night in the streets and suffer all the people's stares. A patriotic man who stood for duty, honor and country, yet there he sat with his whole life in a bag lying on the sidewalk beside him. His pride was only a faded memory now; he wears tattered clothes and he looks tired. He appeared frail with wrinkles covering his dirty face. No one could ever comprehend what this man has been through, yet they walk on by like he's invisible. If I don't look at him, maybe he won't see me. The multitude glance sideways at this brother, uncomfortably in pity and disgust. As we hurry off to our destination of nowhere, there are those who verbally attack this man with comments so sharp they cut like a knife. None of us cried, "Crucify him," but wouldn't we be guilty just the same? How and why did we become the enemy to one who fought to keep us all free? Little did they know he once had a wife and child. When he went off to war he kissed them goodbye. When he came back he was expecting a hug and a kiss; so many things he had missed. To his surprise his wife and child had left with no reason why. His loss was great; his heart had shattered. His life was turned upside down and to the world it did not matter. For those of you who condemned this man and the many more like him, homeless and alone, let those without sin cast the first stone for standing on that corner with his staff and his rod. He might have been the Savior, our Lord, our God.