It's cold now, as the holiday season descends upon most of us. In large cities, and some not-so-large, you see women on the streets pushing the remnants of their lives in shopping carts. A few carry everything in plastic trash bags. That's where they got the sobriquet, "bag lady." They've been around all year, but I think you notice them more when it's cold.

These women are homeless, a state gradually being perceived more frequently, if not more clearly, on the Eastern Shore.

One woman begged for quarters outside our news agency near the White House. She changed off for two days a week seeking funds outside the Veterans' Administration some blocks away. Diversifying her markets, one might say.

You might have mistaken her, at first, for someone who had lost her metro fare; someone momentarily on hard times. She was neat, wore suits and in cool weather a tweed coat. This was the early 1970s; our views of women begging for money had progressed. We did not, as we might have as youngsters, think of her as "a beggar."

One of our staff writers asked her one day if there were anything she could do for her.

"I just asked you for a quarter," the woman snapped. My colleague delivered up the quarter and went on her way.

Regardless of her rebuff, we tried to keep an eye on the woman. We saw that on good days -- when there had been enough quarters -- she ate well at the cafeteria we all patronized. We were pleased. We knew she would get fresh, home-cooked vegetables there in generous, reasonably-priced portions.

She did not seem to fit in with the usual homeless ones; in fact, she may have had a home of some sort. She never carried her worldly goods with her at her post or en route, nor did we see a shopping cart parked nearby. So we hoped she had somewhere a room of her own.

At that time homeless women could not go to the missions for meals, prayers and sleeping space. Those were for the men. The homeless men we saw in plenty seemed less cumbered. They had left their burdens somewhere behind them. We supposed society told itself that no "virtuous" women were without homes, or that if there were such, they had "brought it on themselves." If their families did not look after them, clearly, it was the women's fault.

"Our" homeless woman had moments of friendliness. My editor once asked her, "What are you going to do with all your money?" The response was a smile and a light-hearted, "Oh, I think I'll go back to London."

A clue? We never had another. There were no further responses of any kind. The woman grew more morose, less well combed. Her skin paled and seemed dry and unhealthy. We did not see her again at the cafeteria.

Finally, no one saw her -- ever, anywhere.

I see other women, even now when public awareness seems to have grown. They are tired, sick and disheveled. I look at their bulging plastic bags or piled-up carts and wonder. How does one choose from life what to move into a shopping cart?

Regardless of the work by the late Mitch Snyder at the Center for Creative Non-Violence and his successors, I believe society still sees these women in stereotypes. They are described by "experts" as either mentally ill or failures in family living. Sadly, I fear that these are considered the same. If you don't fit into a certain structure, there is something wrong with you.

What do I see in those women?

Well, I can look at the actuarial tables; I know I will be alone a part of my life. I am neither rich nor powerful. I can be robbed with impunity by crime and by the system. My resources are finite. They will diminish as inflation grows and cost-of-living allowances do not. No one cares that I paid into my retirement account; that I pay taxes on the income. Insurance companies care even less. I could be at serious risk with the first severe illness, home disaster or auto accident I suffer. I guess the same perils apply to men, but their resources are usually far greater.

What do I see in those homeless women?

I see me. How about you?

In case you'd like to do more than feel bad about the homeless situation, here are some folks who would welcome your help.

Samaritan Shelter, Inc. P.O. Box 661, Pocomoke City, MD 21851

Christian Shelter, Inc. 325 Barclay St., Salisbury, MD 21801

Lighthouse P.O. Box 54, Keller, VA 23401

Diakonia 12747 Old Bridge Road, Ocean City, MD 21842

Donations to all of these are tax-deductible. Many of them provide varied services: shelter, groceries, prepared meals... They need you in many ways: your money, your time.. Each one probably has a "wish list" of equipment and supplies. Ask.