This weekend, my wife and I stepped into a world that is far different than our own. Another couple invited us to join them and their adult son to venture to downtown Cincinnati with the Broken Bus Ministry. It was a day I won’t forget.
We started by learning what we were going to do and who we were going to serve. Michelle, the founder of the ministry, gave us a quick orientation to let us know what we would encounter and how to be prepared. The bus is packed from floor to ceiling with a mix of clothing, backpacks, shoes, snacks, supplies, and miscellaneous items that could be used as needed.
The description of the bus being broken is accurate !! It’s over 30 years old, and the engine sputters and coughs as you head down the road. The air conditioning strains to work, and the shocks and suspension are suspect. It’s perfection !! We headed to meet people who are experiencing homelessness. The goal of the day was to check in, provide a meal, put together a sack of snacks and drinks, and assess if the people we met needed other basic life items.
Michelle has been taking volunteers to serve this community every week for the past 14 years !! She is a volunteer as well. Many of the people she serves know her by name and wait eagerly for the bus to arrive. Who we met and what we saw was a simple reminder to be grateful for things we take for granted, such as shelter, food, and safety. After a few stops, we got our bearings and joined in the efforts to serve. My wife manned the biscuits and gravy station, and Trevor, the son of our friends, helped with clothing and snacks. Michelle, Amy and John, and I got out of the bus to talk with the people we saw. We invited them to come get a meal.
It was humbling to see people crawl from their makeshift “homes” to get a container of warm food and other items. The best part of our time serving was the conversations we had. I hadn’t expected this. My friend John noted that when we got back into the bus to move to the next stop, the most obvious and salient thing. “Steve, the number one thing all of these people want is to be treated with dignity.” I felt tears well up in my eyes and agreed.

It’s easy to judge, make statements, and ignore people. It is. The slightest difference causes us to decide the value of the people we encounter. It’s not fair. It’s not necessary. But, it’s 100% human.
During my day downtown, this smacked me firmly between the eyes. I gathered myself, and soon found myself sharing stories, telling jokes, laughing with, and listening to the stories of these folks who were facing insurmountable challenges to make it through the next day. We were in the midst of those who live on the fringe because of choices, life circumstances, drugs, alcohol, and mental illness. In no way did it diminish the fact that they deserved to be treated with grace, care, and respect. It’s not something they regularly receive from the majority of people who move around them.
What would our world look like if we treated each other consistently with dignity? How would workplaces and cultures be shaped if we saw the best in everyone and what they had to offer? How would your day go if you took the time to acknowledge, greet, and encourage others regardless of their circumstances?
I know that my viewpoint was broadened this weekend, and I don’t want to return to a place that ever looks at someone as “less than” me. One of the people we met was so conversational, and he asked if he could share a word with us. We all eagerly said that we’d love to hear what he had to say.
“To quote the great band Cinderella (an epic 80s Heavy Metal Hairband), ‘You don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone.’ I had everything. A home, a job, loving parents, and more. Never take it for granted. Tell the people in your life you love them. Don’t just show them, tell them. I had those things.”
His wisdom will stay with me for the rest of my life. I won’t look past people again. Everyone deserves to be treated with dignity. Everyone. I hope you’ll join me. Together, this simple act could reshape the world.








