Good morning.

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One day, it was at an intersection not far from the Veteran Affairs hospital in Westwood. “What does that man’s sign say?” she asked from her car seat. A couple of weeks later, she asked about the woman I handed a $1 bill to outside my car. Not long after that, as we got off the freeway near Venice, she spotted them before I did: “Mommy, why are there are those tents there?” she said, pointing to a grassy clearing near the off-ramp.

I do not try to shield my two young children from seeing the homeless people we pass as we go about our lives in Los Angeles. And I always try to answer the many questions that come from my kids, ages 3 and 5. Still, every time I try to explain why people are homeless and what we can do about it, I find myself worrying that I am doing it all wrong.

Last month, a young couple set up a tent on a corner two blocks from our home, which means my children pass it daily on the way to and from school. The kids have asked about it almost every time we see it: Why do they have a dog? How did they buy the tent? Where do they cook the food they’re eating? Even when I’m flummoxed by the questions, I silently hope that they keep coming. I do not want them to become inured to the sight of people sleeping on sidewalks, under freeway overpasses and on bus stop benches.

We’ve packed bags filled with toiletries for the homeless, along with many other young families from our school. But most of us are reluctant to take our children to deliver them. As one friend put it: “I am worried about what the impact of seeing thousands upon thousands of homeless people on Skid Row will do to my already anxious 10-year-old.” Another friend said she tried to always carry food in the car, so that her children can point out someone they think who might need help, offering them toothbrushes and bandages that they carry as well.