Tuesday, April 24, 2012

Oh snap, hold up, say what, you’re telling me this world isn't perfect!

Oh snap, hold up, say what, you’re telling me this world isn't perfect!  You mean to tell me that even though I was born into a perfect little pink room with a canopy bed with the most adorable built in book shelf that my daddy, a carpenter by trade, built, there are homeless women with no place to sleep.  You mean to tell me that although I had a Bigmama who sat on the porch endless hours in the summer months watching me chase lightning flies and play kick ball, there are child molesters in schools and churches that prey on innocent sweet children.  And that although I had a Mama who clothed me in dresses with lace, tied my hair with ribbons and berets to match, put shiny patent leather shoes  on my feet, and gave me a sweet sixteen party, there are depressed folks who can’t take care of themselves nor their children.  Really? 

Every now and then reality hits me dab smack in the middle of my face, and I feel assaulted and anxious, like I can’t possibly continue to live in my  comfortable little world when there is so much suffering.  The most recent assault came when I ended up across town for over six hours in the home of an acquaintance who is unemployed with no money and staying with a friend, who is severely depressed, although she nor my acquaintance seem to understand this.  There was S%&@ everywhere.  Bags, clothes, garbage, and dishes. Stuff, stuff, stuff!  There was absolutely no order! 

My acquaintance’s friend's kids, ages 10, 11, and 12, came home after school and remained home while I was there for at least 6 hours without anyone offering them something to eat or dinner.  So they moved aimlessly around us, the two boys sometimes exploding with uncontrollable, negative energy.  No one talked about getting ready for school the next day, doing homework, or cleaning up some of the garbage or stuff lying around on the floor and everywhere else.  I’ve asked my friend who is a psychologist and lives near to this family to check on them and provide resources so this mother can get some help, clean up that house, and be there for her adorable kids.  My only other option is to call children services.
I’m also assaulted every time I meet up with Joann, my homeless friend, who for 10 years has lived on the street over from me on the sidewalk, in alley ways, and in empty spaces of businesses that will allow her to stay for a spell.  I’ve offered my place for her to sleep and shower, written down my phone number and address, given her money, and begged the local church to unlock their doors at night so she can stay there, but she continues to walk the streets.

When I ask how she’s doing, she always responds, “Just fine.”  When I saw her last, I was out for a stroll to get stamps and a few things at the store, and I only had a 100 dollar bill.  I apologized for not having any change and told her that I couldn’t give her anything.  We chatted for a while, and then I continued on my way to the store.  But she’s no fool.  When I came out of the store, there she was again. And since I now had bought something and had change, I was able to give her twenty five bucks.  This made me feel a little better. 

Now that it’s been 10 years I actually look forward to meeting up with Joann and am emotionally prepared for our meetings.  At first, I would cry and become emotional after each encounter, always thinking but for the grace of God go I: We’re  the same height, same skin color, and she likes to wear pretty dresses, just like me, or, at least, she used to.  Recently, she told me that she now dresses like a bag lady so that she doesn’t get unwanted attention. 

But I was not prepared for a reality check when I came out of the 24 hour fitness the other day, and there stood two homeless women whom I had prayed for and talked with at a local shelter a few weeks before. What and the heck were they doing there, I wondered.  But there they were and there I was, so we chatted and I shared with them that I have a non-profit, and it would be so wonderful if I could figure out a way to raise some money and purchase a home for homeless women.   They agreed, and then one of them, whom I had given my email (homeless people have email now) sent me an email after our chat to remind me of what I said I would do. I have a little more paper work to complete to renew my non-profit so that I can see if I can make good on what I said.  Wish me luck!
I’m always prepared for the emotional assault I receive when I turn on the news and am reminded that there are child molesters who prey on kids among us – these stories show up often -- and violent people who kill and assault others.  It’s all very, very sad and makes me feel anxious in my nice, little comfortable world.  Sometimes I wish I no longer had thoughts of my pink room with the canopy bed.  I always pray for all those who suffer in this world.  Life is so short, and I absolute hate that some people have to endure such pain during their brief time on this earth!


  1. Beautifully written and great food for thought. Thank you for bringing about another level of awareness. We know the problem, I just don't know the solution.???
    Cynthia O.

  2. And there is the proof. Right there among your insightful words: Only by looking outward, can we ever truly appreciate our inward, so to speak. Having the blessing isn't enough. Recognizing the absence of it in the lives of others and caring enough to speak out, act out and show out is what gives our blessings true meaning! Peace be with you.

  3. Neither do i, Cynthia. So I continue to write and write and write. And Pray. Thanks for your sweet comment. Meme

  4. @Nan, I'm not sure why what you wrote makes me well up inside with tears! You write beautifully. I'll write more when I pull myself together:) Luv U, Nan