Yesterday, a group of us were heading to Union Station in Portland to catch the bus back to Seaside.

On our way to the station, after we exited the Max, we stopped for a photo opp. While, Paulie and Katie were trying to set up the camera, a man stumbled up to them and asked them for change. Politely, Paulie said that she didn't, but she didn't brush him off.

She engaged him, which I think took him by surprise. He started to tell us stories. However, it quickly turned serious and he turned to me to start to talk.

This man tested me. He ask me if I knew his life, if I knew his turmoil, and if I would listen to him. I took his challenge, guided him under an awning away from the rain, and sat down on the pavement next to him. Hurriedly he told me his abusive father.

He told me about the types of domestic violence that he, his siblings, and his mother suffered. He told me of the Christmas' that his father came home and stomped on the presents. He told me how his sister told him that he needed to forgive his father because his father experienced abuse as a child too. As I smelled the alcohol from this man's breath, he began to cry.

At the age of 57, his mother died of emphysema and left him alone at her bedside. Then he took his glasses of and began to sob as he recounted how much he missed his beautiful mother. Comforting him was difficult, but I did what I could. In a few moments, I would have to leave.

What was I going to do with this experience? Perhaps use it as inspiration to stop the cycle. I hope that one day foster care can be utilized as a tool to stop the cycle of abuse. Hopefully, it has already done that in many people's lives, but what can we do to make it more effective?

What can we do to stop the abused children from becoming homeless on city streets?

Paulie helped me brainstorm a few ideas in the bus station. I really do believe that the cycle can be interrupted. It doesn't have to continue. It can stop with you, him, her, them, or me.