Magdalene's Mission Uncategorized

Peace, Love & Hygiene: vol. 144-

The outreach kept going for the past three days. Presently, I am in a quaint, East Lansing cafe drinking coffee with an old friend. Here we go-

Affirmation:

Street Outreach– What an intense and wonderful trip! Maggie the van was loaded with hygiene kits, clean clothes, socks, jackets, and most importantly- lots of food. We started out in a neighborhood that was absolutely dilapidated. It looked like projects, rows of government housing. More of the buildings were condemned than livable. A lot of plywood windows. I heard that everyone is being evicted by the end of the month. No one knew who we were, so we had to approach people as they began lingering and watching. 

“Are you hungry? Do you need clothes? I have some really useful hygiene kits!” 

Most people did. One gentleman was confused and took the entire tote of mens clothing back into his house. Traci and I looked around and noticed it missing. He must have been fast! We didn’t even see him! But when we asked him about it, he looked embarrassed and brought it right back. I told him that the clothes were for a lot of people, but he was more than welcome to take what he needed. Just DO NOT take my totes. We are in desperate need of more totes. That’s why I have to put a hold on clothing donations. It’s not that I don’t want them. I don’t have any place to put them.

We took advantage of the daylight and wandered outside our usual zones to find anyone who may need us. One woman we stopped to help told us that she could use our things, at first. But before we could hand her anything, she told us that she didn’t know us. She would rather not. That’s fair.

We started travelling towards more familiar territory. People who recognized us started pouring out of the shadows. I heard my name screamed from across the street more than once. The ladies came running up with looks of pure joy and comfort on their faces. I saw quite a few familiar faces all at once. I saw my Angel baby! She’s alive and kicking!

I received the best, perfect compliment from my Working Girls that night. They told me that they knew that I genuinely loved them. They told me that I cared for them like no one else did. One lady said, “No one says good things about us, or truly loves us like you guys do. No one else is as genuinely on our side. We love you. Thank you!”

That moment was so real, so affirming, that it felt like Jesus Christ himself came down from Heaven all the way to the ghetto to pat me on the back. 

If you ever wonder why I’m not more focused on the business aspect, or building my company, blah, blah, blah… that would be why. 

Because there is no money to be made. There are people. There are needs. There are people who can all put in together a bit at a time, according to their gifts, and we, as a species, we win. In case you somehow missed it, I, Kayla M. Donaldson, won an award for community service from Detroit WDIV Go For It! The link to the segment is below. It was great to be acknowledged by a Detroit Community icon.

When I hear how much we mean to the most vulnerable, persevering people I know, then we ARE doing the right things for the right people for the right reason. We made good things happen.

Because that’s how we do it in Detroit!

Amen.

Go 4 It: Woman supports, aids vulnerable Detroit communities: https://youtu.be/_2sDVs3_5io?si=AQpPsWO2U-tD5zh_

Magdalene's Mission Uncategorized

Peace, Love & Hygiene: Vol. 143

This report is about the 2 people Traci and I served yesterday. With all due respect to their privacy, I’m still not going to sugar-coat it. This is who we serve:

They are an adorable married couple who have been together for nearly two decades. They came here from another state to be near their family. After a series of unfortunate events, they were left with nothing but the streets. Like my girl said, “The real gate-way drug is the trauma that happens to make you think you need that stuff.”

Or, as her husband put it, “Heroin was bad, but we quit that. After the relapse, now there’s this fentanyl crap in everything and you’ll die before you get it out of your system.”

When they got together, they built a successful family, and a pretty little all-American life. The house, the cars, the kids, all of it is gone now.

The first thing she wanted me to see was how well her face had healed. The last time I had contact with her husband, he called me in the middle of the night. He told me that his wife was ‘working’. She was attacked with a knife. The man told her he was going to kill her and throw away her body. She cleverly escaped the trunk of his car (somehow, thank you, Jesus) and made it back to him. “What do we do, Kayla? I can’t take her to the hospital!”

The stitches scars on her face reminded me of a rag doll. She is right. It did heal nicely. One can hardly see it.

They live in an abandoned property on the eastside of Detroit. They said that the neighbors have left them alone for over a year now. They keep the property clean, and don’t allow drug use in their den. He’s found a way to access electricity, and they bring water back in five-gallon buckets for drinking and cleaning. 

It was a beautiful day. Every once in a while she would move herself backwards into the van. “I’m trying to not let them see me.” She said, “That guy is weird.”

The husband blocks her from view. 

“Those are just customers. We don’t need to deal with them right now.”

We talked about all the people we knew from that area that we hadn’t seen in a couple of years. The list of names of people who have died was extensive. Just about everyone we knew from that house on the eastside we used to see every week is gone. Not all though. A few still survive.

I assumed overdoses, but the Wife claims it is the resurgence of AIDS. Too many girls aren’t using protection. The diseases spread like a wildfire.

Traci and I loaded them up with supplies. Shortly after I left, the husband thanked me for the feeling of clean socks. We got them plugged in with some people who can help them get their lives back again. They don’t give up on eachother. We won’t give up on them. They knew that finding that mangled up business card was going to turn their luck around. Here’s to hoping, my friends.

Because that’s how we do it in Detroit.

Amen.

Post-script: The Fort St. Church volunteers are nothing short of heroes behind the scenes.

Also, the basement we are in is also THE FIRST INDOOR BASKETBALL COURT IN THE UNITED STATES! Every week, I found out something historically amazing about this place! Beauty in every cobblestone. I choose to see it.