Every Wednesday, Carlito would roll up to our outreach on 145th Street between Broadway and Amsterdam in his wheelchair, always with a big smile.
He received the soup and Bombas socks with gratitude, but especially loved the hot chocolate and conversations with our volunteers. There was always someone for him to encourage—somebody who needed a reminder of what a gift it was to be alive.
I started calling him the “Rolling Prophet.”
Carlito lived with physical pain and a small monthly disability check. But I didn’t know much about his past. One day, I asked how he had become paralyzed.
I wasn’t prepared for the answer.
For most of his life, Carlito had full use of his legs. He had also endured homelessness, poverty, violence, and isolation. Heroin offered temporary relief, but addiction pulled him deeper into despair.
He told me he pretty much “owed every drug dealer in Harlem money.” Unable to see a way out, Carlito attempted to end his life by jumping from a high-rise window.
The moment he began to fall, he regretted it. All he wanted was to live. He cried out to God to save him and silently promised that if he survived, he would spend the rest of his life full of gratitude.
Days later, Carlito woke up in a hospital, paralyzed from the waist down. He believed God had heard his prayer and given him a second chance.
His financial circumstances hadn’t improved. Recovery would be slow and difficult. Yet every breath became something to cherish.
He passed that gratitude along to everyone he met.
I think about that conversation a lot. I had witnessed his smile, heard his prayers, and watched him encourage countless volunteers. Now I understood more about the daily choice behind it.
I wish I could tell you that knowing Carlito changed how I face every difficult day. But uncertainty still overwhelms me. Worry about the people I love creeps in, and sometimes the dumpster fire that is my social media algorithm makes it hard to see anything positive.
Carlito never pretended his circumstances were easy. He simply refused to let hardship have the final say.
I could have handed him soup for years without hearing that story. I’m grateful he trusted me with it.
That’s why I’ve been sharing To Walk a Mile, an email series exploring our neighbors’ stories, what brings people into crisis, and how we can respond. It’s an invitation to look beyond assumptions, listen, offer practical help, and discover what others can teach us.
We brought food, socks, and connections to resources. Carlito offered encouragement, prayer, and a perspective I still need.
As Thanksgiving approaches, I want to follow his example: cherish the day in front of me and find somebody to encourage. Maybe that means making a call, saying a prayer, or taking a few minutes to listen.
I’m inviting you to walk a mile with us by giving today to help bring Thanksgiving to our neighbors.
A warm holiday meal creates space to share food, hear each other’s stories, and build relationships that make ongoing support possible. Your gift will help City Relief offer nourishment and connection to people facing homelessness and hardship this Thanksgiving.
We thought we were showing up every Wednesday to do outreach for Carlito. Looking back, I think he probably did more outreach to me and our volunteers than we ever did for him.
With gratitude,
Josiah Haken
City Relief, CEO
