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Imagine. [1]
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Date: 2022-07-27
I have been up all night. Besides it being publish day, I am haunted by a face. It was a face of pain and beauty, sadness, and optimism. A young woman of about 30, maybe slightly older, was fumbling with a dry Sharpie in near tears trying to write a sign to beg for food outside of Fry’s, a grocery store from the Kroger chain. She was starving.
We passed by and she asked if I had any change so she could buy yogurt. I was rather stunned that this woman was asking for yogurt. I thought maybe a sandwich, or a soda, but no, she wanted yogurt of all things. I am nothing if not compassionate and inquisitive, so I sought out to find out why.
But first, I gave her a gift card I had in my pocket. It wasn’t much, but it would be enough to get her a full meal and perhaps some medicine for her sunburn. I don’t want credit for doing that, as that is not the point of this story. I gave her the assistance, only to see this woman do a happy dance of sorts, while still seated, and make a sign of the cross.
The next thing she said, is she loved me. I was stunned. After that she told me that she “was so hungry.”
Have you ever had a human being look at you and tell you that they are so hungry, outside of a grocery store? Or at all? It chills you. It makes 45 year-old men cry. She just kept thanking me and telling me she loved me.
She had been hungry. Here we are standing outside of a grocery store, with enough food for several lifetimes, and she is burning on the pavement, starving. Her face, while youthful, had signs of abuse. There were a few scars around her eyebrows, and she carried with her a general sense of not wanting to look directly at people.
But she looked at me. She looked at me and gave me a smile I have not seen from non-family in years. And again, she said, “I love you so much.”
You know I think she meant it. I think she meant it because I meant it. But not enough actually do. And, in some parts of the country it is illegal to assist the unhoused. It’s true. Moreover, in Missouri and Tennessee, they have made being without shelter a felony.
And while my exhaustion is depressing, what I am so tried of is that for the vast majority of my life, I have watched a steady regression in how we treat each other. Everything we face, from climate change to education, gun violence, and homelessness, is up to us to fix. And if enough cared, we could fix these issues. But too many only pretend to care. Still, I meant it. I built my life around the impossible dreams, the lost causes, the hopeless cases. I chose to take on the fights other people gave up on. I lost many of them.
Won a few, too.
So yes, I am tired. My body is wearing down, and my soul is haunted by the faces with backs turned to them. And, the backs turned to me. See I once had a friend I thought I was close to, who flat ghosted me. But I foolishly held out hope for re-connection until his child was born. But after my cancer diagnosis, there was no notice, or sharing pictures, no hey are you still alive, nothing. I even promised to be an uncle figure when the time came, but that ship has long left port. But last night I built a connection with a stranger in seconds from sheer compassion stronger than eight years of superficial hot air. Funny how emotions work. But just for a moment, let’s get back to yogurt. The person below discusses their survival plan for being homeless. A lot of this has to do with portability. Although the yogurt could have some needed pro-biotic effects, and for all I know, it is the only treatment for something that ails her she has access to.
*If I have the money, sometimes I get a prepared rotisserie chicken Yes, whatever I can’t finish will go to waste, but it’s worth it to get some protein and eat something hot once in awhile! *I like the little yogurt drink, but sadly they are expensive ($1.79 each), so I can only get 2 at a time. I find yogurt really helps me feel better when I’m starting to feel really famished. *Apples & Bananas. Yup, like the kid’s song lol! But hey, if you eat it the same day you got it you’re good!
He goes on further in an interesting read. Snack packs are key, so that they can be easily stored in a backpack and transported. Then I imagine the backpack. And I realize that often the sum total of a person’s posessions, of how they define themselves, is strapped to their shoulders.
So I am left sitting here in the dark, typing out of sadness. People without a home are being talked about like they are refuse. They live in constant fear of being harmed, in deplorable conditions, and in one man’s case not far from the very store, living under a shade tree each day, when day after day it crosses 100 degrees, sometimes 110.
Last week, not far from where we live, a man was found dead of what is now believed to be heat stroke under an overpass. I wondered if I knew this man, if I had seen him at the Wal-Mart or on the corner. I found myself praying that this man’s last moments were not of him thinking that no one cared. Maybe that is why I am writing this. Yes I write to take care of my family, but I also write as self-therapy, and I write to make a difference if at all possible.
But this piece is being written because my heart hurts and I hope someone that is in a desperate situation on the streets somehow reads this so they know someone does indeed care. Someone does mean it. So I hope this gets shared all over the internet so the people that need to see it will. I don’t have to know their name, or see their profile, to love someone.
And this new friend loves me back, and she means it too, because I mean it, and I think to myself, how much we could do to help the world.
I mean, imagine what we could accomplish if we all meant it, all the time. Just..
Imagine.
-ROC
If you like my work you can support me at
https://theclawnews.com/2022/01/support-me-by-signing-up-for-my-newsletter/
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