She’s homeless, carrying everything she owns in her backpack. She doesn’t look like a “typical” homeless person. A lost job, lost apartment, lost relationship—who knows why she is where she is. The point is that she could be your daughter, sister, neighbor or cousin. The point is she is a child of God and she IS your sister and neighbor---and our faith calls us to take care of her. So there she stood, quietly requesting feminine hygiene of a certain kind, which she desperately needed. We didn’t have it, and she silently started weeping. Such a small thing for those with money to take care of; such a huge thing if you have no money.
Fortunately, at Hope House, the staff has what we call the “St. Anne” fund—money we find in pockets, money handed to us by grateful clients and generous donors, and money the staff quietly slips into the open-backed statue of the Blessed Mother we have on the counter in the kitchen. I collect it, turn the change into bills and lock it in a file cabinet in an envelope for when the need arises for something extra for someone. This was definitely one of those times! As I handed her the money, she threw her arms around me and held on for dear life, sobbing.
I love my job; it is very fulfilling most of the time, but today was one of the pinnacles of the last 13 years. We are all here in this world together; some of us are more blessed than others, some are at better places in our lives than others and some have more family support than others, but we all are here together, all children of the same God and He wants His children to work together.
Seldom do I feel the presence of Jesus so directly, so closely. I’m pretty sure He was smiling.
