Innocence of Children
Day 6: Walking in the shoes of the homeless and unemployed
An interesting thing happened this morning. As I was leaving the shelter to drop off my resume at the ACLU, there was a rather haggard-looking guy walking toward me who was talking to himself. I waited at the corner until he was close enough, then I spoke. He looked up, gave a quick, perfunctory “hi”, walked past me, stopped, turned around, and lit up! The moment felt like the instance when the children placed the magic hat on a pile of snowballs which animated the much beloved Frosty the Snowman.
He said, “You know the one thing that’s missing in this world? People don’t know how to have fun anymore. Only children know how to have to fun.”
I agreed with a smile, “You see that, too?!”
His face lit up even more. Through the numerous missing teeth, he hissed out a laugh. “Yes! There’s no more innocence. Adults have lost the innocence of children.” Then, he paused, pointed a shaky finger to his temple. “You know, it was so nice to walk by you and see that beautiful smile of yours.” His finger traced down the length of his nose. “The Lord has a blessing for you. I just know it.” Shaking his head in what seemed like pleasant disbelief, he concluded, “Thank you for making my day.”
“Thank you for making mine,” I proffered with genuine gratitude bubbling up from deep within my spirit and spilling out from my smile, emitting the light of recognition from my eyes. We went our separate ways.
The State House
5:15pm
After hand delivering a couple of resumes in downtown Providence, I decided to go to Border’s to look up a couple of books. The library was closed. Walking up the hill to the store, the State House loomed in the background, staring me in the face, and calling to me. A tour, the thought materialized in my mind. I asked the Border’s employee if they allowed the public to walk in and tour. He thought so but wasn’t sure. Carrying on with my original plan, I grabbed a book, sat down on the wooden bench in the center of the aisle, and started reading.
Then, God started flowing. “Go to the State House. Ask for the… champions of the homeless. Ask to meet with the legislators who are the champions of the homeless.”
So, I did. I dropped the book, walked over, entered the building, and removed my shades to face the two security guards.
“Hello. I was wondering if you could help me. I was going to research this when I got home, but I was passing by and decided to just stop in and ask. Would you know which legislators are champions of the homeless?”
“For the homeless?” the seated, stocky guard asked.
“Yes.”
“I’m not sure, but I believe Public Records would know.”
“Down in the basement,” the tall, slender standing guard chimed in. “Step this way and I’ll pass you through.”
I placed my business tote on the conveyor belt for scanning, but the guard instructed me to keep my coat on. “Just walk through.”
The detector beeped like crazy, but he just waved me on. “You can take the elevators to the right or the stairs on either end.”
So, off I went in search of Room 38 in the basement. Chills shimmered over my body as I passed office door after office door marked Rep. So and So, Committee So and So, Minority Caucus this, and Official that. Finally, I reached my destination alive with wonderment at God’s secret plan. What do you have cooking now, God? The lady behind the desk greeted me with a genuine smile. I introduced myself and stated the nature of my visit. She said that the lady who is usually there is the person I wanted to speak with. She was just filling in but promised to give her my card and have her call me in the morning.
On my way out, I picked up some literature and gave myself the guided tour. Only the stocky guard was posted at the entrance. He just stared and smiled at me with a strange look of awe almost as I thanked him and exited the building.
My stomach immediately growled and kicked, “Food. Now!”
In The Eyes
I came into Cold Stone Creamery to get a sandwich where I now sit and write the events of the day. This petite, elderly lady started talking to me shortly after my arrival. Her sunken eyes watered slightly as she spoke, more a physiological response than an emotional one to be sure. Through a concave mouth rimmed with ridged wrinkles, she complimented me on how beautiful I was. Since I was dressed in my black suit, she asked if I worked in an office. In the same breath, she suggested that I should be an actress—I think. Her Polish accent was quite thick.
We talked about my European travels and her origins for a few moments. Then she said her goodbyes. The lady stretched her arms up to give me a hug and a kiss on the cheek! When she got outside and passed by the window, she just smiled and waved for a few moments before finally disappearing beyond the glass. The garments she wore showed signs of extensive use.
She could have very well been homeless I thought to myself.
Given my experience with the man this morning and now this lady, I can understand why God put me in this homeless situation. I had to be humbled enough to look people in these distressed circumstances directly in the eye. Instead of being embarrassed for them, I needed to simply regard them as human, as myself, as like me. I have opened up so much in the past six days. Maybe that is the blessing God had for me.
Copyright © 2010 Sapphire Jule King and International Freedom Coalition