‘Tis the season of giving. The outpouring of love this week is what the best of humanity is all about. I struggled a bit with putting together outreach for this week. Certain tasks were taking significantly longer than planned. My plan for making goulash fell through, but at the last minute, the night before, a friend informed me that she had already packed 60 meals for our homeless friends. Another friend added the desserts that people have grown accustomed to associating with the flavor of Love.
As you know, I have recently begun to bring out new volunteers. This week the talented servants were Cecilia and Catie . Cecelia and I have served together on countless teams for our church and her daughter sings splendidly for our church band. Cecilia is a feisty Irish broad from Detroit. I knew she would fare just fine.
The very first person we helped was a crippled senior gentleman who panhandles at an intersection. We grabbed him some provisions and then scooted over to where he was as quickly as we could. He was working on untangling his tire’s innertube from the frame of his bike. He felt blessed for the provisions we supplied him. I gave him a big hug before we headed back. We drove around a lot. It’s cold and wet outside, which means most people we know are hiding, but we found quite a few tonight. The team uncovered yet another hidden shelter that no one will ever find. We met the man who built it, and he was very proud of his work.
My volunteers were naturals. We rolled through the cold and misty streets excited and content all at the same time. Eventually, our teams meandered our way to where the Hobbits live. We gathered up some food and headed that way. This week I was able to procure a tiny LED lantern and some fresh rope. The medical team arrived first and said that they weren’t there, so we trekked back to our vehicles hoping for the best.
We went around the corner to where my Brothers can be found. We found one of them, the amputee. His brother was working to collect money. We luckily had a duffel bag with a strap that helped him to carry the supplies back to where his brother was waiting for him. While we were there, the Hobbits arrived! We ran towards each other and gave each other big , mega hugs. We had the best talk! Let me tell you about it. Its what Mr. Hobbit would want me to do.
I told him that I write about him and his wife. He loves it. He thinks it’s wonderful. As a matter of fact, if I give him some paper and pens, he said that he would write the story of how they became homeless and everything that has happened to them since they have been on this wild journey. He told me that he wanted to give me the extraordinary story so that I could share it with all of you. How cool would that be?!?! So, yes, I am bringing him journals and pens for next week.
Mrs. Hobbit eventually confessed to me that she loves to color. Then from a tattered green canvas bag, she tenderly pulled this coloring book with some of the pages slightly hanging around the edges. She colored exotic patterns of birds and flowers and hearts all inked in metallic pens. She proudly displayed her art to us. She admitted that she likes to use the finished pieces as Christmas cards. She would be sure to have one made just for me for next week. I can hardly wait.
Next, Mr. Hobbit introduced me to gaunt man standing quietly behind him. He told him, “See, these are the girls I wanted you meet. They might be able to help you and your wife.”
Yes, another married couple. They were wonderful people as well. We talked and chatted for the longest time. We talked about how she was dealing with the loss of her younger brother. He had died from an overdose. Their mother was beside herself with grief. We talked about some other stories, and as she looked through the bin of clean clothes, her smile on the her face lit up the entire street. She reminded me of a Princess who left the castle one night to roam among the paupers and fell in love. I guess that makes her Jasmine and her husband would be Aladdin. I hope someday they really do find a genie.
We made friends with another new couple on the southwest side. We had a great time talking to them for a long time, too. Mr. Anthropology. He also studies people. He broke down for me all these different psychological aspects of panhandling and homelessness. For instance, his girlfriend asked him to choose between which coat to accept, a black wool peacoat trench, or a tan camelhair trench coat. He told her that she should take the black one because it was more worn and beat up. If she wears a coat that nice, no one will believe she’s homeless. He also informed me that he can’t look people directly in their eye or they will get embarrassed and ignore him. He thought that people who had the gall to approach cars had no couth. To be that forward was an expression of pride. He wasn’t proud. He was humble, just desperate.
I met a pit bull named Psycho. He was the sweetest, most snuggly dog in the whole world. I am madly in love with him His owner was taking care of him for a friend. He said that Psycho had some food. That’s his picture. What a Romeo!
Like at ever other stop that night, we had such a great time talking and especially listening to our clients on the street. And like every other stop, poor Katie would be sent to tell us to pack it up. It was time to roll. Lots of hugs. Lots of love. Tons of gratitude. “Can’t wait to see you next week!”
Finally, we got to see one of my best friends on the street- My Widow Who Sits. I hadn’t seen her in a few weeks. I wasn’t sure it was her, but I was staring at her trying to figure it out. As son as we locked eyes, her whole face lit up like a Silver Bells Christmas Tree. I jumped out of the van and ran to her. She hugged me until my feet left the ground. I was that happy to see her. I got to introduce her to my friends, Cecelia and Catie.
We talked about stuff and things. She and her Handyman are in a house. It’s a dope house, she admitted, but it was inside. No more sleeping outdoors in an abandoned van. At least they were warm, and they even had their own room. It’s only for a couple of weeks. Fingers crossed. She looked okay, even if one of her eyes is almost completely closed now. For as much as My Window is always looking out for everyone else, I’m glad she has her Handyman to watch out for her the other 6 days and 23 hours a week I can’t be there.
But for that hour, or for those precious few hours it takes for us to disperse Maggie the Van’s bounty of carefully crafted donations, there is the absolute best of humanity. There is generosity, compassion, empathy, joy, celebration, brotherhood, sisterhood, perseverance, tenacity, gratitude, kindness, creativity, ingenuity, and best of all friendship.
Because that’s how we do it in Detroit. Amen.
#peaceloveandhygiene #magdalenesmission
