My Mom grew up on a farm in the 1920s & 1930s. They had no money, but usually had food. They kept a table for the bums. Most nights, 2-3 would show up. They would lend a hand with chores and get a home cooked meal. They never stole anything, were nice to the kids, and said please & thank you.
My Mom had similar stories.Back then a lot of decent people were just down on their luck.
My Grandma talked about a mark on the sidewalk that hobos used to put in front of homes where the people gave free handouts,
Aw, you brought a smile to my face, remembering my mother’s stories as well. Born 1923, lived less than a mile from the railroad tracks. As dirt poor as her family was, they did have food most of the time, and there were always chores to help out with.
Her recollection of the hobos that would stop, work, eat, tell stories, then move on, were the stories...places and things they could only imagine (imagination! another ingredient missing from our modern day utopia). She asked once how they knew to stop at thier small farm house ... the man told her that the telegraph/phone poles had markings on them, he said that the marking said you could work for food, can sleep (in the barn) with story-telling. Most did both. Grandma hated it. Grandpa loved the company.
Good story, thanks for sharing.