Last night was good. Dark, weird, and somewhat off at times. It was also healing, rewarding, valuable time spent with valuable people. Life, God, Nature, is complex like that.
Instead of heading to our usual area, the ambulance led us across Detroit to a dark side of town where we had not been to for years. There were Christmas lights on some of the houses. Then we got to a part of the street that was just rows of brick projects that went on and on for what felt like miles. The saddest part was that a good portion of them were boarded up. Condemned Government Assisted Housing.
We drove in front of a row of buildings then parked across the street from it. Then we drove slowly behind the buildings down a very creepy, dark alley. A black cat ran from under one fence to over another fence a little ways ahead of us. Good luck to have a black cat cross our path. While we sat waiting at the end of the alley, I could hear a dog bark in the distance. A few minutes later, the ambulance pulled slowly away and the Comella’s van followed closely behind.
We returned to our more familiar parts of town. Crazy Miss P was standing outside yelling at a man in a big red truck. The gang had taken care of her when they were out earlier in the day. The first friends we helped were walking alone outside. Eventually, we found a well-lit place to park next to a parking lot. We try to be out of the way of businesses, but accessible enough for people who need us to get to us. Ideally, out of the way of traffic.
As the medical team began immediately tending to an elderly crippled man, a woman popped out of the back of the parking lot like a stray cat. Traci was already getting food out for the man in the ambulance from the back of the van. She opened the curb side passenger door on her way to the back. I was pinned on my side, because traffic was flying by my door. So, I couldn’t get out yet. The lady rushed up to the open door where the clothes were, and starting helping herself to random open bags.
Traci yelled out, “Wait! Let me come over there to help you first!”
“But I just want some clothes!” The woman hollered back angrily.
“You have to let me help you through them! It’s too much. Hold on. I’ll be right there.” Traci explained.
But the woman was incensed by this point. She threw the clothes she had back into the van, and screamed, “Why is everyone always yelling at me? You are so mean! I don’t want your stupid stuff! You’re mean and you yell at people!”
She stormed off across the parking lot and there was nothing Traci could say to get her back. A few moments later, a couple of more women appeared from the same shadow that covered the back corner of the parking lot. One by one they came to us. One by one, we fed them. We clothed them. We gave them tools to keep clean and a blanket of warmth and another of prayers before we sent them to the medical team.
Traci would tell some of the ladies, “If some woman tells you that we yell at people it’s not true. And please tell her I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot. I just have to manage all of these donations, and I wanted to make sure she got the right stuff.”
Eventually, we saw her ponytail come bobbing across the parking lot and up to the van. She apologized to Traci. She said she was having a really bad day. Bad stuff kept happening to her and she needed the doctor. They talked it out, and we were able to convince her to get medical attention. In the end, it was a really positive healthy interaction on many levels. They hugged it out and healed the wound.
Speaking of wounds…
I have a sore spot in Detroit.
Remember my Marilyn Monroe? I haven’t spoken of her in a long time. Well, she was saved… nearly for good. It was a while ago. After our beloved Writer Dude died, another guy came along. Apparently, he was the guy Writer Dude stole her from.
After Writer died, she was a shell. I rarely saw her. Then I found out she was pregnant! It seemed to renew a spark of hope in her. Life and color started to return. Of course, she couldn’t have custody of her son. He was in foster care with a family member. Then I didn’t see her for a while, just the new boyfriend. He seemed shady. He would ask for extras stuff for her, but yet, according to everyone else, no one had seen her in a long time.
Then one day, we started going to this little apartment. She was there! With him. Something was better, but still off. I found out from the medical team that they had gotten her off the street. She was sober, had an apartment all her own, and was in the process of getting custody of her son. She was even working a regular job!
The HE found her. He found her and now she’s back with him living in a worse case scenario. He’s obsessed with her.
There’s rumors that he was the one who killed my friend Kyle because of his jealousy of her.
I HATE going there. They even have a dog. I won’t even get out to see the dog. I hear he’s cute. Traci gives him two meals. She does this as a favor to her and me. We never see her come out. I don’t think she’s allowed to see me. I don’t know. It’s the most depressing house. I stayed in the vehicle the entire time. That ended up making me the smartest person because every person who got out had dog poop on their shoes. Our team leader made a declaration not to go back there again. They are no longer as resource challenged as our other friends who are actually challenged for shelter, as well.
Moments like those are hard to swallow. The lines between what I can and what I shouldn’t do are hard to see sometimes. But I know this: A nice person does nice things for people so they will be liked. A good person helps people because it’s the right thing to do but can still maintain their boundaries.
Our last stop was a busy one. It was the perfect place for Traci and me to empty out the van. My beloved Ms. GG’s. The men who come out of that old rickety house are some of the most humble and polite men you will ever meet. Most of them are senior citizen age, like Ms. GG. A few of them are a little younger. They were so happy to see us! Everyone got warm clean clothes. One of the ladies we dressed before was proud to show off her outfit she still had from last week. It was a fuzzy pajama set. Traci said she just giggled and squealed at the idea of wearing such nice matching pajamas. It’s the little things, right?
I am definitely going to Detroit next Tuesday on Christmas Eve. We’ll be out early in the day. I’m going to make a warm homemade Christmas dinner. I can’t think of a better gift to Jesus than to show through my deeds that I indeed apply his philosophy of unconditional love to world. Feel free to text me if the giving spirit is upon you.
When the weakest among us were hungry, we fed them.
When the deprived were sick, we healed them.
When the destitute were freezing, we gave them blankets and coats.
When Magdalene’s Mission shows up, so does God, and the real love you give every week.
Because that’s how we do it in Detroit.
Amen.
