Homelessness In Denver

I went to see a film about photographer Gregory Crewdson tonight with Darrel and his wife Linda, Chris and her husband Jim, and my friend Valarie.  Darrel, Chris, Valarie and I all used to work together at the DU Bookstore.  This was the last night of the Denver Film Festival, and the documentary about Crewdson was excellent.  Afterwards, we had dinner at Maggiano's Little Italy.  During the course of the evening I took what I feel were the finest photographs of my life, but when I got home, my camera was missing.  I drove back to the place where I thought I had lost it, but nothing had been turned in.  I also retraced my steps along the street where I had walked earlier.  As I passed what I thought was an elderly woman wearing a flimsy blanket, she asked me for money.  It was a cold, windy evening, but I had no money to give her.  I apologized and walked on.  After I got into my car, I felt I had to pull up and ask if I could drive her somewhere.  I offered to take her to a shelter, but she said they were all full, and she was turned away.  She did not want to go to a police station, either.  She told me, in an Eastern European accent, that she was homeless.  Her fiancee has thrown her out, and she was pregnant.  To me she looked at least 70.  She said she could get a room nearby if she had $10, so I went across the street  to a 7-11 and got $20 out of the machine to give to her.  If she was acting, she was very, very good, and definitely deserved the $20, but I don't think she was. What kind of a country do we live in when people have to wander the streets in 20 degree temperatures all night, with no help available whatsoever?