In my youth, as a actor-ette, one of the joys of my life was outdoor Shakespeare. Prancing around in Elizabethan garb as Hermia, Rosalind, Beatrice, or Titania — flowers in my hair and satin slippers on my feet — I felt my connection to my player ancestors who set up in the woods and, for a ha’penny, performed the classics. My Thespian “ancestors” were probably not related to me by blood, but certainly by clan. We share more than a flair for the dramatic. I believe theatre people, and our “showbiz” offspring, share a passion for the breadth of the human spirit, the diversity that is our species.

During a particularly beautiful Midsummer’s run in an inner city park, I experienced a moment that has stayed with me through the decades. At the end of the show, the actor who played Bottom put his cap at the edge of the stage, feigning the soliciting of shillings for his Rude Mechanicals. The money was routinely donated to a nearby soup kitchen and mission. One evening, when we came skipping out for the curtain call, we in the cast observed some “street people” standing and cheering at the back of the crowd on some large boulders that allowed them both distance and view of the stage. This time, by some miracle, they hadn’t been forced by the cops out of the park like so many cockroaches. The following evening, our new fans had returned and, when the hat was passed, one of the gentlemen gracefully poured into it about 20 dollars in coin. As we stood on stage, holding hands and taking bows, we poor players choked back the tears and felt infinitely rich — in blessings, both tangible and non.

Three decades later, I live in one of the most affluent metropolitan areas in the world. I love it, as do more homeless than any other region, mostly because of the beautiful weather.

You’ve seen him, haven’t you? The man who lives under the umbrella where, heading toward the setting sun, Santa Monica Boulevard meets Century City. Is he homeless? How could he be? In Beverly Hills? Heading both east and west, we meet street people living under benches, on sidewalks, behind dumpsters, in alleyways…

About 82,000 people in LA County go to sleep somewhere other than in a mortgaged, leased, or otherwise legally occupied spaces. About 10,000 of them are kids. Los Angeles is “home” to more “homeless” than any other place in the United States. Half are African-American, a third Latino. Three quarters are men. One-fifth are veterans. A quarter are mentally ill, a fifth physically disabled. Half graduated high school and more than a third have college degrees. Nearly half are employed, single mothers. Most receive no public benefits.

Performers and their producer, director, cinematographer, choreographer, costumer, makeup artist, grip, caterer, and production assistant counterparts are famous for, among other things, their open-heartedness toward those without permanent roofs over their heads. I may be a hopeless romantic, but I tend to think that we in the “industry”, more than most, identify with those who live on the street. There but for the grace of God, after all. Were we living a couple of centuries ago, we may be lucky to have a donkey cart and a couple of masks to call our own — lucky to be allowed to sleep within the city limits. We were attacked, reviled, and denied burial in holy ground.

Among celebrity advocates for the homeless are Amaury Nolasco, Angelina Jolie, Ashton Kutcher, Adrian Grenier, Brad Pitt, Brett Ratner, Brooke Mueller, Calista Flockhart, Charlie Sheen, Chris Kattan, Danny Glover, Demi Moore, Donna Langley, Edward Norton, Eliza Dushku, Eric Dane, Eva Mendes, George Clooney, Harrison Ford, Jason Lewis, Jason Segel, Justin Chambers, Kate Walsh, Katherine Heigl, Keyshia Cole, Mark Gordon, Matt Dillon, Matthew Modine, Mia Farrow, Mila Kunis, Patrick Muldoon, Rebecca Gayheart, Ron Fair, Seth MacFarlane, Spensha Baker, T.R. Knight, Tim Daly, and Topher Grace. The list is as long as the breadth of compassion in humanity’s core.

Luminaries have served at soup kitchens, run, walked, swam and danced for millions, presented countless unpaid performances to raise money and awareness for shelters, missions and jobs programs for those who haven’t so much as a toilet to call their own, and given hundreds of millions of dollars to try to make a dent in the soul crushing reality that is, to so many of us, simply a social statistic.

The Jewish faith nudges us to remember to treat everyone as if they may be the messiah. Christ said that whatsoever we do to the least of our brothers, that we do unto him. Karma says what goes around, comes around. And the golden rule demands that we treat everyone with the same respect with which we want to be treated.

Our celebrity brethren remind us that the homeless are home here and that the gods often come visiting in such disguises.

If you haven’t got a penny, then a ha’penny will do.
If you haven’t got a ha’penny, then God bless you.

To find out how you can help the homeless, please visit The National Coalition for the Homeless website.