Wall Street Week Ahead – Poverty of the Soul

By Markos N. Kaminis
www.WallStreetGreek.com
Poverty is never a welcomed state, but the impact it can have upon individuals can vary greatly depending on faith. Iʼve been fortunate enough to see the great variance between poverty of the body, and what I would call poverty of the soul. What Iʼve learned is that the spiritually bankrupt suffer horrendously more than the simply poor God fearing folks do, despite similar circumstances.

I find it is most difficult for those who have tasted from lifeʼs silver spoon to deal with the plastic version. This is because of the loss they bear on the way down and the memories of a better life they cling to.

I have a friend, who I will refer to as Samantha here, who enjoyed a life of luxury, living in a $10 million dollar Upper East Side abode, traveling extensively and eating at the finest of dining establishments day in and day out. Samantha, having lost these things, now nearly chokes on her pride before gaining the courage to enter the soup kitchens that now keep her alive. In our discussions, she spends the precious moments of life complaining about her fall and criticizing the alien impoverished around her for not knowing any better. She even criticizes their well wishes, as they offer her kind expressions to “have a nice holiday,” because “how could this poor life coexist with anything nice,” she cries out.

After many discussions with this lost soul, it became clear to me why Samantha is the epitome of desperation. It is because when I ask her about God, she calls Him the fantasy of the poor. It is beyond her sophisticated mind to find possibility in faith you see. Because of her hopelessness, this college educated woman in her lower fifties, who can type 100 words a minute and is capable of more than she can imagine, spends most of her gifted lifeʼs time now thinking about her own demise and even planning her suicide.

In my own travels into the netherworlds of Americaʼs greatest city, I have seen great poverty and suffering. However, I have also found hope thriving within that impossible landscape. Where Samantha struggles, I note the effort of Anthony Horton, a once homeless man, frequent client in our kitchen and producer of a wonderful work of art and poetry in conjunction with Youme Landowne. This man, who has never known a better life, depicts the story of his truly horrendous lifelong struggle in touching art and word. Where Samantha finds reasons to give up, Anthony and his partner write wise words full of hope within images of horror. Their book, “Pitch Black,” is a must own for people who are inspired by the will of man and who trust in God.

Samanthaʼs life, however impossible she believes it to be, is even now a thousand times more bearable than the years our homeless artist/author/friend/brother has seen while living within the underworld that exists below and within the New York City subway system. Still, the eyes of the two individuals could not be any different. Where Anthonyʼs are alit by blessed fire and hope, Samanthaʼs are darkened by despair. Both dwell in darkness, but Anthonyʼs darkness is of the body while Samanthaʼs is of the soul. Thus, the final consequence of all of our struggles can be supported and secured with faith, or deteriorated and destroyed without it, as evidenced clearly by the lives of men.

To see a longer version of this article or to offer aid to Samantha or Anthony, visit WallStreetGreek.com.