Right now I am thinking of the homeless... I passed three people, while walking down Boulevard in RVA, this morning. I pondered whether their families know they are living under a bridge, or sleeping in a car. (Believe me, many families do know, but feel powerless to do anything about changing our beloved family members or convincing them that they can seek help.) I also feel sad that I feel indignant when I see so many people at many corners, holding cardboard signs for donations. (But I don't feel that money and change given will solve the problems of the world unless they are put into programs that help create change.) I remember when a drug addict family member called me up with a story about how her house had burned to the ground and how she had no food or money. She asked if I could come to help her and give her money. She told me to meet her at Penn Station in Newark. I did, but I had no money to give her. I was barely self-supportive, myself. I had just graduated college, was living in a studio apartment in Roselle, NJ and had just paid my rent and had no car, yet. I was surviving but just okay. Especially since I had just received a "food closet" type of donation sent to me by my concerned parents. It was full of canned vegetables and other food and toiletries. I packed up the box, rode from Elizabeth to Newark, carrying it like heavy luggage. I met my sister, who looked just so awful and strung out. I gave her the box. She yanked it from my arms and mumbled, "Thanks a lot! (Hit of sarcasm was heard.) She walked away, around the corner. I followed her. I knew what she would do, so I followed her, without being seen. I found the box, contents dumped into the trash. I turned the trash over and fished out the contents and re-packed the box. I have to admit, in retrospect, I was glad she did not want the food, since I was hungry a lot, those days. I carried the heavy box to the NJ Transit bus, boarded, then got off my stop in Roselle, and walked three blocks from Westfield Avenue, back home. I was tired, so I ate one of the cans of soup, after I said the grace I heard, as a child, "We give thanks to Thee, Oh, God. We give thanks."


Richmond, VA

Moving through my spiritual journey

Margaret WoodyComment