There is a Scottish  man named Josh Little John who is making a difference to the homeless. His restaurant called Social Bite has a culture of inviting patrons to pay it forward. Someone who is hungry with empty pockets can come in and enjoy a prepaid meal. Josh says they are already a year ahead.

Yet his aspirations do not end with a single lunch. His goal is to have a quarter of the staff be people who have a history of homelessness. This is of course a risk, to take on people for whom punctuality and dependability have faded. They have no references, no address, no resources except their bare hands. Yet he finds that once they adapt to the workforce, they become intensely loyal.

In the past week three people expressed to me how their life is inching along. They have varying circumstances, none being remotely dire. On the surface they appear surrounded by the comforts of family and a well lit tree. Yet they quietly admitted feeling lonely. Detached while at the same time tangled. Stuck on the couch, imagining that everyone else they know is wrapping gifts and sipping chocolate. 

Recently a friend called whose small house is, shall we say, overly full. Sometimes it is hard to keep from tripping over one another. But a neighbor noticed this and offered one of her spare bedrooms. To ease the crowding. What a miracle it is when one person who has more than enough is generous. 

There is a homeless family in the Christmas story. Probably the uncertainty of a safe place to sleep was cause for anxiety. Yet they were cared for, taking refuge in a humble stable after which they escaped to a foreign country. I am powerless to change the misfortune of Mary, Joseph, and their precious Baby. Even if I kept my doors open to the snow and my lights on all night they would not cross the threshold. 

But perhaps there is a more subtle way to invite them in.