Poverty & Gratitude

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Upon exiting the church building this morning for my routine meditation walk to home and back (which also includes a coffee refill), I immediately encountered a known woman from the neighborhood who is engaged with the church and church activities. She had gathered supplies from our food pantry - four large grocery bags worth. I asked if I could help her carry them to her house, to which to quickly welcomed the notion. She offered me the "heavy" one on her shoulder. I threw it up on my shoulder, trying everything in my power to not show on my face how much pain and discomfort was now present. In an effort to prove that I was not in pain, I offered to pick up another bag, so that we both only had two bags each. As it happened, the second bag was no less heavy than the first, but at least there was some balance now. Of course, not even my beard could hide my immediate exhaustion.

How she was to carry all these bags herself is unknown. She, however, seemed prepared.

We began our four block trek to her home. She (M) lives with her parents. Her mother has Alzheimers, and apparently her father is demanding and loud and verbally abusive, especially towards the mother. She (M) is middle aged (40) - has a grown son with special needs, and a teenage daughter with whom she is overprotective, whom she cannot really provide for, outside of food and shelter. She (M) was married, but now is divorced, forced to live in poverty and chaos because of her own disabilities.

As we continued walking together, we had barely passed one block before she is already asking me if I am "alright" - to which I obviously respond "sure", even though we are now in the basking humid 90 degree sunshine and I can't really breathe properly. After a seeming eternity, we finally surpassed block number three, with her house in sight. She interrupts our conversation to tell me that she can carry it the rest of the way - but not because she feels she should relieve me of such discomfort - but because, as she says, "nobody wants to hear people argue - nobody wants to see that" - referring to the apparent possibility that her dad would be loud and unpleasant towards her or me or whoever might be around. I don't know - but I do know that she was embarrassed and shamed at that moment - enough that she picked up all four bags herself, and carried them home, without complaint - but with genuine gratitude towards me - as I turned off towards my own home for coffee.

Just two blocks in, I could hear an argument coming through an open door at a house on the corner. A woman with a deep smoky tone was yelling towards another human that he/she needs to leave - that he/she needs to "get out". I couldn't see either person. However I could see the four/five year old boy and the three/four year old girl out in the side yard by themselves. The boy was listening to the argument, and the girl was towards the backyard currently infatuated with a huge dump truck being filled with earth and landfill. She wanted to show it to me and talk about it. I stopped and entertained her "show and tell" moment - which for the time being I imagine, was a good distraction from the reality inside the home. The boy came to the back also, similarly intrigued by the massive truck. The truck itself began to get louder as it prepared to move, so I couldn't really hear the children - except that the little girl was determined to tell me something really important. She came up to the fence and yelled - "it's my birthday!". She followed it with something that I couldn't understand, so kinda yelled back, "it's your birthday?" - to at least confirm her emphatic statement. I imagined that her birthday had most everything to do with the argument inside - dad or mom had maybe showed up out of the blue, high or drunk - and grandma wasn't having it. Not today at least. Who knows? - but as I was walking away, toward the loud dump truck, I yelled back to the little girl, "Well, Happy Birthday!" - and she yelled excitedly back to me, "Thank you!". My eyes and heart swelled a bit.

Plenty of poverty on the streets today, but plenty of gratitude too.

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