Why Do I Feel Bad for Homeless People?

This morning when I was returning home from the gym I was stopped in my drive way by a man. He was homeless, as I found out later. He asked if I could do him a favor. I listened to his tale of misery and wo. He got permission from the "father" of the LDS church down the street to sleep behind the building. Well he left his sleeping bag and blankets there the night before, and when he returned someone had stolen them. So he walked over to the Sacred Heart Church down the street and slept there. A kind woman had given him a quilt to sleep in, but at 2 in the morning the sprinklers came on and drenched him. Poor guy. Well, he was waiting for the alcohol sobriety facility to open, although he was "not an alcoholic." He asked if I could give him some change to go to the Burger King and get some breakfast. Well, there I was standing in my gym bottoms and the only thing I had on me was my gym membership card, my phone, and my keys. I told him I didn't have anything but really wished I could help out.

Now, here's the moral concern of the day. I told him I wished I could help. I really did feel bad that he had to sleep behind the church, that he got his livelihood stolen, and that he got soaked by the early morning sprinklers. But if I really wished that I could help him I could have gone inside and gotten a few dollars from my wallet. Or gone to my car and given him the little sack of change I keep in the glove box for emergencies. But I didn't. And as I soaked myself in a nice warm shower I thought that I should go find the man and give him some change to buy breakfast at Burger King. But I didn't go find him.

Next time I will help. I think.