Sunday, July 1, 2012

Someones Daughter

I do a lot of driving every single day. I drive through areas that are very affluent along with areas that are not so affluent. I "people watch" while I drive. I watch the big rig truck drivers give attitude. I watch children walk to and from school. I watch mothers push baby strollers. I watch the business executives race to work. I watch the cyclists trudge up hills. I watch people jogging. I watch people push shopping carts stuffed, full of recycling. I watch the homeless sleep at bus stops. I drive by tents made by the river. I watch the comings and goings of people's lives as I race around town living my own life. I have even watched with a broken heart one rainy morning as a homeless person sat in a wheel chair covered in a tattered quilt in the pouring rain only to see them later in the day in the same spot in the pouring afternoon rain. My heart ached. I had secretly wished all day long that there was something I could do. I had hoped that someone would have helped them find some safe dry shelter. That someone probably should have been me. But, all the courage I could muster up was to send  prayers to heaven  in their behalf. While I am out and about I quite frequently come across persons asking me for spare change. When I can, I usually will give to those less fortunate than I. Because I like to "people watch", I will often spot a person asking for money before they even approach me. A few days ago I had an experience that I was totally unprepared for. On this particular day I was having a challenging time with my boys, we were hungry, and on our way to the grocery store. Once I parked the car, I was preoccupied with checking coupons and getting the kids out of the vehicle. I was unusually unaware of my surroundings. As I trudged through the parking lot with my baby in arms and three other children holding on to my shirt, a woman approached us. It was evident by her appearance that she was living a hard life. She looked tired and beat up by life. Her clothes were tinged with dirt and a few sizes too big. She walked up to us and asked for a spare dollar. My children froze and got unusually quiet. I told the women the truth, that I had no dollar but that I would search for some spare change. She patiently watched me struggle with one hand as I tried to search the bottom of my large purse. I apologized to her that it was taking me so long. Then she spoke and said "I know how big purses are, my mom always had a big purse." I frantically searched for some change and gave it to her and off  I went with my boys to shop and ponder her words. What this women said struck a cord in me probably because she referred to her mother. Where was her mother? Had her mother passed away already? Was her mother sick? Where was her mother? I have never had anyone who has stopped me for money get so personal. I was floored that my searching in my purse reminded her of her mother! I could tell by the way she spoke that my rummaging in my purse provoked sweet memories of her own mother. So the next time that we think we are too busy or too broke to give some spare change let us remember that we all have a mama...we all were once someone's baby...

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