Outside Children's Castle in AoyamaSurprise. That was my first reaction when I saw him. Not that there aren’t any homeless people in Japan. In fact, the numbers are growing as even large, seemingly well-to-do and insulated companies like Toyota, Canon, and Sony announce factory closings, work slow-downs, and employees being let go as positions are eliminated. One headline this week publicized Nissan’s decision to slash 20,000 jobs worldwide.
Even some unlucky upcoming (March) university graduates have learned that the jobs they’d been promised have been retracted. Now they are at the bottom of the heap of people scrambling for work, with all predictions being that things are only going to get worse. Toyota, for example, recently revised its economic forecast for the fiscal year ending in March. They are expecting a loss three times larger than what the company had feared. This will be the first ever fiscal year loss in the company’s 71-year history.
In Japan, those feeling the immediate crunch of the worldwide recession are temporary workers. Although they are the lowest class of workers—the employees that are both hired and fired first—these people make up one-third of Japan’s labor force. According to the government, some 85,000 temporary workers will lose their jobs between October 2008 and March 2009. While not all will end up in shelters or on park benches, there is no doubt that the number of homeless in Japan is on the rise.
Even some unlucky upcoming (March) university graduates have learned that the jobs they’d been promised have been retracted. Now they are at the bottom of the heap of people scrambling for work, with all predictions being that things are only going to get worse. Toyota, for example, recently revised its economic forecast for the fiscal year ending in March. They are expecting a loss three times larger than what the company had feared. This will be the first ever fiscal year loss in the company’s 71-year history.
In Japan, those feeling the immediate crunch of the worldwide recession are temporary workers. Although they are the lowest class of workers—the employees that are both hired and fired first—these people make up one-third of Japan’s labor force. According to the government, some 85,000 temporary workers will lose their jobs between October 2008 and March 2009. While not all will end up in shelters or on park benches, there is no doubt that the number of homeless in Japan is on the rise.
Still, I was surprised to see the man that day—not because he was homeless, but because of his location. He was not keeping warm in the underground metro approaches where men can often be found lined up head to feet, sleeping on cardboard, newspaper, or directly on the ground. Nor was he in one of the large parks in Tokyo in makeshift cardboard or tarpaulin tents. He was on a corner in Aoyama, considered to be one of the most popular entertainment and fashionable shopping areas in this city, the place where Tokyo’s “beautiful people” hang out. This man was dirty and anything but beautiful, but there he was anyway, sitting on a curb next to his raggedy suitcase. He had a cold, and I cringed to see him blowing his nose into some scraps of newspaper.
I was on my way to a meeting and, as usual, running late. Assuming there was nothing I could do for him, I hurried on past. But, to my surprise, I stopped several feet beyond him and began fishing in my purse. I’d just received a tissue package at the train station. I could give him that so at least he wouldn’t have to use newspaper. So I turned back, handed him the packet, and heard a grateful, “Thank you” in response.
Actually, it was an embarrassingly little thing I did. What sacrifice is there in giving away a free package of tissues? This act didn’t cost me anything other than a minute of my time, at most. But there was definitely a new spring in my step as I continued on my way. I was so happy that I’d done something rather than just walking on by as usual. Recently I’ve been praying that God would open my eyes to the needs around me and use me to touch people with his love and little acts of kindness. I have no illusions that my little tissue packet will change this man’s life, that suddenly he’ll get up, bathe, put on clean clothes, get a job, and become a contributing member of society. But maybe, just maybe, even for an instant, he realized that he is a valuable human being worthy of someone’s notice in an upscale part of Tokyo.
In fact, I want to notice more. I pray that stopping on a corner in Aoyama was only the start.
