I have been trying to prevent myself from bubbling over all week long from expectations of this coming week. I am SO excited! From Sunday - Friday my life will be PERFECT. I just know it.
I've let a little of my joyous anticipation slip out on forums at another site, only to see other posts by people who won't be with family, who have lost their jobs, who's children have moved away and I feel guilty. But underneath the joy is simmering still.
I feel really bad about the economy, about unemployment and starving children in Haiti - I know I'm lucky. I want EVERYONE to be lucky with me, I DONT want to keep my happiness contained.
Yesterday afternoon I went to the store to buy our 'sandwich' turkey. We're having the real thing at my sisters house next week, but we want... no we NEED leftovers, so we prepare our own sans extras.
At my store if you spend $50 or more you can get a turkey for .29 cents a pound. I didn't really need much else, so I sort of ran back and forth across this warehouse type store as things popped into my mind to meet the min. $$ requirement.
I bought a book, I bought real butter, I bought a can of Lysol...
On my little shopping adventure I met other people who had the bubbly joy they were trying to keep in. I had an in-depth conversation about tuna with a woman my age [she holds the same canned fish convictions as I shared in a previous blog]. An infant and I cooed and smiled at each other each time we met up; in fact most people were cooing and smiling all thru the store.
I found a small check-out line and stood in it... but then I spotted chocolate. I hadn't had any for days. I looked around; all of the lines were pretty short so I decided to chance it.
I debated a few minutes before selecting M&M's. I turned back towards the cash registers and they were loaded. Dang.
I started walking across the store, scanning the lines for the shortest. And then I spot it at the exact same time a lady coming the other way. We both walk faster, just short of a completely embarrassing run. I think I'm going to get there first and then I know it. Just as she reaches the line before the short one she turns and acts like she needs bread. HA!
and then I see why.
At the tail of the short line was a homeless man. I stopped and glanced around, hoping I missed another short line.
I didn't. I fought with myself. I was scared. What if he smelled? What if he started yelling weird things. What if he had a knife?!
I stayed in that line. I kept my distance, but I stood there.
The man in front of me glanced around at the magazines as he waited. I didn't want to stare, so I looked around too. I notice that an older, well dressed man putting his food on the conveyor belt to the left of me had the same nose as the man in front of me. I wondered at the forces in life that make two men with the same nose turn out so different.
As I turned back to look at the man in front of me he bent towards the gum rack and I could see the woman in front of him. She was turned towards him. She scowled as her eyes scanned his body. I felt anger. I took a step forward, narrowing the gap between him and I to a normal one. I looked directly at him, then I looked around, people were stareing at him. Whispering.
"This could be Jesus," I thought. I've heard it both ways; that He was weathered and homeless; that he was a wealthy man's son. I REALLY looked at him. [Not that I think he could actually BE Jesus, but more along the lines of the 'neighbor' He told us to love]
His pants were ripped up the back of his right leg almost to his buttocks. His skin looked healthy, which surprised me. From the back I could tell he had a piece of a blanket sewn or somehow attached to the front of his pants; it was stripped or flowery or something weird. My guess is the pants are ripped in more places than one.
He had a black piece of cotton cloth covering the back of his shirt, knotted at each shoulder; a cross between a short robe or a cape. His shirt sleeves looked like he had sewn various shirts sleves of different sizes together to create it. Being a girl, I noticed that the needlework was of good quality [the seams were hidden and straight] His hair was completely matted [I couldn't see much of it] and a extremely stretched out stocking cap crowned his head, the end of it bearing a large hole.
He bought a package of hot dogs, a bag of hot dog buns, a large jug of water and generic cola.
We have two homeless men that live near me. They have been here for years. One is a chubby white middle-aged man who asks for money and counts it when you give it too him to make sure it's enough. He gambles.
The other is an short wiry older white man, frequently seen carrying make-shift bags three times his size over his shoulder. He won't take money if you put it in his face and according to my daughter he will not accept food from the restaurant she manages [but will search the trash bins for dinner]
I want to do something to help the man in front of me, but I am afraid. What if my help is unwanted? I don't want to insult him. I keep watching him. At one point he trembles, like a child when they are trying not to cry.
I decided to get some cash out and if I spot him when I leave the store I will give it to him. Of course he's no where to be found. As soon as I reach my car and start loading my groceries into my trunk I break into tears. I cry all the way home.
It's already so cold out, in the 30's at night, he must be so cold.
Today after lunch with a dear friend [yay! grown-up time for me!] I dropped my grandson off at school and went hunting for a birthday present for my daughter-in-law [no luck] and a slide projector [maybe!] I had been thinking of ways to help the man all night, my joy evaporated. I want to get him a tent and a sleeping bag and some clothes!
I dragged my 16-year-old son with me. I didn't tell him about the homeless man until we were at the thrift shop and he was nagging me to leave. I looked at the sleeping bags, they weren't much less than a new one. I found a nice hat, a nice sweater and a good pair of jeans. I had no idea if I would find him or not, but I could just re-donate it if it came down to it. I couldn't remember his shoes and I didn't want to guess at a sizes. I figured if I found him I would ask.
My son got into it really fast after voicing his concerns about finding him. It was ten bucks, so what.
When we got out to the car I asked him if we should keep shopping or go find the man. He wanted to try to find him.
We drove to the same grocery store and then behind it. I stopped the car. I told my son I wanted to pray for God to guide us. My son told me already did while we were on the freeway [THANK YOU GOD!]
The store backs a freeway and the entire length behind it have large boulders and no hiding spots, but at the end of the strip mall there is a field over grown with bushes and as we round a turn a few dozen two-liter soda bottles reflect the sun's gleam from not to far into the bushes.
On a scrap of paper I dug from the bottom of my purse I scrawled a quick note, "God Loves YOU!" was all I wrote.
I was in an alley with no place to park so my son took the bag and the note. I told him to leave them at his camp site if he wasn't there. If the man was there he was just to say 'These are for you", hand him the bag, check out his shoes and leave. I could see my son the entire time.
The man wasn't there.
My son said there were two boxes of those cheap cheese and cracker packs, the empty bottles and some empty plastic bags.
We went in the store and bought him some stuff. Soups with pull tops, applesauce, a huge bag of tangerines, a bag of socks, Advil, hand/feet/body warmers, spaghetti w..meatballs, plastic spoons. My son thought of the hand/feet/body warmers and spaghetti w/meatballs.
We drove around the other way to get back to his camp, from this angle I can see a pile of water jugs at a totally different spot. I have my son get out to see if that is his actual camp. He reported back that there was just the water jugs and a box of soap.
I realize then that the man did not smell bad in line at the store.
We leave three bags of stuff at the first location next to the bag of clothes.
My son is first worried that he won't find it, that he's moved on. Maybe he has. I tell him we will leave that part up to God.
Then my son is worried that the man will be angry, of feel like we invaded his space. I'm humbled, I never even thought of that.
In truth, I am still afraid of the man. I have a fairy tale scene in my head of him stumbling to his roosting place after a hard day of finding nothing and coming upon bags of food, clothes and a note telling him God loves him, which will cause his eyes to mist and his heart to praise God.
My son wants to go back tomorrow and see if the items were found. I don't know... if the bags are still there untouched... I guess I don't want to know.
I am really looking forward to this coming week again, I can't wait to spend time with my sisters and their families [and two girls from Scotland who have never experienced Thanksgiving in America] but this man will never be far from my heart. He's given me so much.
He showed me that my son is going to be the man I always dreamed he would become and even more. I'm always so afraid he's going to be damaged by not having a father around, that I'm screwing him up beyond repair. All this time I have been so greatful for being able to spend time with my sisters and thanking God for such a gift and He had a better one waiting for me, greater than I ever thought of asking for.
contemplative
thankful
blissful
cantankerous
sad
