Hey guys.
Our power has been out for a day and half now. I’ve been out
of the house so much I’ve barely noticed but tonight when I got home, my phone
was dead and no lights were on and I didn’t know what to do. For a minute, I
felt like I was one of the most unfortunate people in all of Richmond – what on
earth were my friends going to do without me to text them? How would I talk on
the phone if it was dead? And I really wanted a pizza, too. How was I supposed
to eat a pizza without an oven to cook it? For just a minute, I really thought
nothing could be worse. On my way home to this terrible, powerless, catastrophe
of a situation, I stopped at a stop light. I hate stop lights. Like, when I’m
driving, I strongly believe that all the lights that I come across should
suddenly turn to green. Anyways, I was at a stop light. There was a homeless
man sitting there on the median, with a sign that said “PLEASE HELP AND GOD
BLESS” and it was written on a little scrap of cardboard. He didn’t look much
different that the homeless man I see on the way to work every day, or the one
that sometimes sits on the corner when I go to church, but this time was
different. I was awkwardly in my car with air conditioning and loud music
blaring, thinking I was the coolest kid around in my sundress and braided hair.
I told myself that lots of other people probably gave this man money and I only
had four dollars and that could get me a milkshake at Chick-fil-A! But then I
found myself counting out the quarters and dollar bills and rolling down my
window and saying, “I only have four dollars” and “I’m so sorry” when a few of
the quarters fell onto the street when they slipped from my hand to his. I got
a close up look at him, and he was probably only five years older than me. He
kept repeating “thank you” and the look on his face and in his eyes when I
first rolled down my window broke my heart. It was so eager and hopeful and
thankful and human. Behind the scraggly beard and knotted hair and old clothes
is a young man who, in a different situation, could have been a friend to any
one of us. I drive past homeless people every day and I divert my eyes to avoid
feeling guilty. I get angry when I hit a red light and have to wait two minutes
for my turn. My phone dies and I’m not sure how I’m going to make it without
constantly talking to my friends. My car has a dent (or two, three…four?) in
it, I actually have to work in order to get money, my house isn’t as big as
some of my friends’ houses. But I have a car, I have a job, and I have a house.
I know this sounds lame and cliché and not nearly as laugh-out-loud hilarious
as my previous blog posts, but I’ve realized tonight that we’re fortunate in so
many ways. Something about a young man with bright blue eyes on his hands and
knees scooping up quarters from the side of the road breaks my heart. Why, if
we’re healthy people living in a house with more than enough food to eat, are
we not helping people who don’t have what we have? It’s made me kind of
ashamed, but more hopeful. What if we all did decide to help? Not necessarily
handing out money to homeless people, but looking around and seeing someone who
needs a friend or food for the next day or a place to sleep for the night could
change lives. And it’s crazy to think that we’re too wrapped up waiting for
things to happen to change our already good lives that we don’t notice we can
be that change for other people. I guess this abnormally dark house and quiet
phone has got me thinking about some things – I hope you got something out of
this!
Love, Christie
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ReplyDeleteGreat post!!
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