You see 'em in so many parts of town, and they're so much more noticeable this time of year: Men, women, sometimes with children — down on their luck, huddled against the cold. The bleak looks in their eyes are an indication that they're already wondering where they'll pass the night, indoors or out.

For some, it's a long-standing and dreary routine, the result of drugs, alcohol, mental disturbance, or maybe all the above and more; an indictment of our nation's inability or unwillingness to come up with effective institutional care. For others, who not that long ago had homes and jobs to go to, it's a shock, an inconceivable setback sprung from a sudden return to Dickens-era economic and social principles: lost jobs, lost homes, even lost cars as shelter of last resort.

There but for the grace of God, begin our responses to the plight of the homeless, as seen on the street, or read about in the paper. Surely there are charities taking care of them ...

Well, yes, there are — at least to the extent that Santa Fe's homeless shelters can. But whether, or how much, they can depends on you. They operate on shoestring budgets, yet their staff and volunteers discover every day that so many more people need so much more help. And like so many good-turn operations caught up in the national economic crisis, they're running short on support.

For a quarter of a century, St. Elizabeth Shelter on Alarid Street has been a beacon in our community's nights: food, a bed and help getting folks back on their feet. That last part, in fact, is part of the deal: able-bodied adults are expected to pursue jobs, and save some of their earnings so they can find their own place to live after a month.

Far from a charity flophouse approach to running two emergency shelters, St. E's has developed separate transitional-support housing for parents and children, as well as a resource center offering free lunches, clothes, supplies, phone and mail service, even some legal help.

Even at its most basic, the emergency shelter, there's been a sensible addition: Casa Familia for homeless women and people with kids, which has allowed St. E's to offer a men-only emergency shelter and make its gritty work all the more effective.

But there's no end to the need for help — and it's growing: Mild as our winter has been, outside's nowhere for people to be, and it's sure to get colder.

St. E's is in a squeeze: Contributions from so many of you help it eke out its existence as a godsend providing 40,000 bed-nights a year, 50,000 meals and invaluable counseling. Yet as the shelter has filled the vacuum of care with new facilities, its maintenance and operating costs have gone up.

Some big donors have been willing to help — but they think others should pitch in, too: Three Santa Feans promise to match your contributions, up to a total of $100,000 — made by the end of the year.

That's both an opportunity and a burden for this giving community: Tough times, holiday-finance pressure and so many other worthy charitable organizations seeking your help raising money to keep going.

But there are lots of us — and if enough of us act, we should be able to raise it without too much strain on the pocketbooks.

For more particulars than we can begin to spell out, call St. Elizabeth Shelter, 982-6611, or e-mail to development@steshelter.org. By helping, you could be boosting your own holiday spirit ...