I took a walk tonight.  Salt Lake City is an interesting place.  We are in a fairly affluent area surrounded by dozens of nice restaurants, bistros, bars, shops, etc.  It was getting late, but I felt safe, just wandering around the block, here and there.  There are many old buildings with interesting history.  Some of them have plaques outside telling about their origin or events that happened there.  I really enjoy looking at original architecture and imagining what it looked like when it was new.  I try to envision what the street may have looked like, how the people would have been dressed.

The more I walked, however, the less I saw the history of this city and the more my eyes were drawn to its painful present.  I caught glimpses of it as we moved around town during the day, but tonight it was glaring.  There are signs everywhere that ask tourists and residents to please refrain from enabling the homeless population.  That isn’t a direct quote, but the meaning is the same.  The Hotel Monaco, a lovely hotel in a beautiful old building, has wide window ledges that span about half a block and in each ledge is a length of sharp spiked metal.  I assume it is to deter homeless people from sleeping in them at night.  Some of the people I saw seemed to have mental illness struggles and some just looked tired.  There was no hope in their eyes.  No one asked me for money or food.  They were just there.

As I was heading back from a little convenience store with my bottled water and some candy I saw a young mother with her two kids.  I’d seen them earlier in the day in front of my hotel, once on their own and another time with a man.  They caught my eye because she had a stroller loaded with what looked like everything they might own.  The kids haven’t had a bath for days, if that, and their clothes haven’t been washed.  They didn’t seem underfed.  She was speaking harshly to the little boy, but I can’t stand in judgement.   I don’t live her life.  I don’t know how much patience she has gone through today, or yesterday, or every day that she struggles.   Tonight, I saw her sitting on a corner by a traffic light with her two young children, holding a sign.  A lady jumped out of a car and handed her some change.  She thanked her politely.  I couldn’t help myself and I didn’t bother to read the sign.

I sat down with them and said hello.  I told her my first name and asked her if she had a place to stay tonight.  The little boy answered very matter of factly, “No, we had to leave our shelter.”  I learned that his name is Dominic and he is 7 years old.  Dominic knows all of his letters, some shapes and he can count to 100.  He used to go to school, but his family lost their home so now he goes to the Boys’ and Girls’ Club during the day.  “It isn’t school, but they teach me things so it is just like school, ”  he told me.  Brittany, his mother, told me his teacher said he was at the head of his class before they had to leave.   She is very proud that Dominic is smart.   Dominic’s sister, Dakota, will be five on July 26.  Brittany said she thought Dakota would be able to go to Boys’ and Girls’ with Dominic because the minimum age is five, but she found out recently they are also required to have attended a year of Kindergarten.  The shelter they had to leave was the only family shelter in the area.

I asked Brittany her plan.  She said if she could come up with $40 she could get a room at Motel 6 for the night.  She had $13 and change.  While we talked I gave the kids, with her permission, my bag of M&M’s as a treat.  They both said thank you.  I watched Brittany’s face.  She wasn’t drunk, she didn’t seem high ( to my limited experience and knowledge, anyway). It wouldn’t have mattered to me if she was.  I made up the difference with a little extra for some food.  I told her I would pray for her and I talked with her about how well behaved her children were and how the best thing she can do for them is to keep them safe and get them an education.  I tried to talk to her like I would want to be talked to.  No condescension, no pity.  She didn’t need any of that.  I talked with the kids a minute or two more.  They told me their dad wasn’t with them.  As they gathered up their things and started off I noticed they walked by the man they’d been with earlier as if they didn’t know him.  I asked him if he had a place for himself and his family.  “They aren’t mine,” he said. “They are from the shelter and I try to help them sometimes.”  As we talked the kids ran back to him, calling, “Daddy!”

Where am I going with this?  Honestly, probably nowhere.  I don’t have an answer.  I don’t know how to help them over the long term.  I have no experience, no knowledge, absolutely no solution to Brittany’s problem or those of any other people I saw tonight.  I can only help today, in this minute, in this blink of time.   I don’t know why the man lied or why the mom asked the kids to lie.  Maybe it is easier for her to panhandle money if she looks single.  Maybe he uses them to get money.  Sure, he looked sketchy.  He couldn’t look me in the eye.   Would I look bad if I lived on the street from minute to minute?  There is no doubt.  I would be ashamed.  I’d always feel like I had to hide something and, if it meant pure survival, I’d lie.  I would try to find another way but, in desperation, I’d probably steal to feed my kids.

My heart is hurting for Brittany and her family.  I don’t know what parts of her story are true and what are lies and I refuse to judge her for any of it.  I don’t know what she’ll do with the money I gave her.  If she uses any of it for those children, then I’m glad I gave it to her.  I pray that she told the truth.  I pray that right now those kids are behind a locked door, in a safe room, having a bath, sleeping in a bed.  Even if it is for one single night.  Because that is one night they won’t sleep on the street.  I pray that, even for just one night, Brittany can sleep.  That she can ease her burden for just a little bit.  I pray it might be enough to get her strength up to face tomorrow.  If she swindled me and took my $35 and my bag of M&M’s for drugs or something worse, then… I don’t know.

Whatever Brittany does tonight, I have kept my promise.  I let myself into my safe, clean room and I went to me knees before my God and begged him to help her.  Please, God, protect those babies.  Help them to grow up and out of this situation without harm.  Surround them with your love and protection.  Help their mother find her way, find Your way.  I’ll continue to lift them up because, even though I am certain they have already forgotten my name, I doubt I will ever forget theirs.

I took a walk tonight.  Maybe not the one I intended, but the one I needed to take.

 

PS. I am not telling you this story because I am proud of myself and I ask you please, not to praise whatever actions I did or didn’t take because none of it was my idea.  I was led and that is not what this is about.  My heart was touched tonight and I just wanted to share that.  I hope that others are moved to help where they can even though the result of their giving won’t be clear or known.  Even if someone thinks it is enabling, I hope to please make someone see the other side.  See the possibility that a little help, sometimes short term help, is so much better than no help at all.  Because what did it really cost me tonight?  A dinner out and a bag of candy.  Oh, and a giant chunk of my heart.  For as long as I’m able I’ll gladly give it.

 

 

5 Comments

  1. May we all have the compassion to do what our hearts are begging us to do. I hope that I can be looked upon and remembered in the way I see you.


  2. I am now praying for Brittany and her children too. Such a heartbreaking world we live in, I see it every week at Full Bellies, Plateau Outreach Ministries and Neighbors Feeding Neighbors right here in lil ol’ Enumscratch. Thankfully, there are so many like you willing to have their hearts broken wide open for those in need, and willing to risk themselves and give themselves to help…

    1. Author

      Thanks for everything you do, Cari. I know the long term solution isn’t found in giving money to Brittany like I did. I do it anyway because my greatest fear is that there is no long term solution. My heart still hurts for her. I hope she is safe today and that she and the kids are fed and warm.

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