Moving Day and Wanna Moves

She was excited! It was moving day. She's been sleeping in the bushes the last couple or three-four days, rising when the sound of traffic picked up, coming to the Emancipation Station for breakfast, a change of clothes from her small duffle bag stored out of sight, then to Metro Lutheran Ministries (MLM) to work on that place we've been praying for, waiting and waiting for. Finally moving day--Emancipation Station has a box of dishes, dinning chairs and stuff waiting for her and around the corner at MLM a sweeper, bookcase and more stuff to be piled in the little Subaru already loaded down with donations. We trudge two flights up, sweating, lifting, dragging and now salty/sweet smelly arm-pits wet from sweat, but happy. Happy about the neat apartment--one bed-room and more amenities then dreamed of. What a thrill! And can it really be after the crack and drugging and partying and nearly dying. Yeah, left for dead in the park. She remembers having a good time at a crowded party and feeling light-headed then being flung over a shoulder and kicks and pain and kicks and fist until---blackness and blankness and nothing waking up, broken up and...a rape kit and being nursed back. She's going to wear a dress soon. Going to take off that "manish" look soon. Going to let peace and joy move back into her life soon and maybe even love again someday.

She's lovely, slim in an almost child-like way with enchanting eyes. She says, "Where do I know you from." Gazing, she says with certainty, "I know I know you from somewhere!" I think to myself, God knows. A lot of people go in and out of my life! I wonder if she might be related to the .... She wants to speak with me. She sits and talks about her journey much longer than I have time to listen but I am caught in the depth of her eyes and words. Raised a Moslem, her path changed somewhere along the way. She knows she's on a journey. Just yesterday evening, homeless, not knowing where to go, she felt a tug that pulled her in hope's direction. She felt hope when she came upon a bag of clothes someone had thrown out. Rummaging through the bag--black pants needed to start a job promised--the job where the needed black uniform pants were unaffordable. On that path, she found the shelter she would sleep for however many nights, safe from whatever menaces that had driven her to this point. On this path, she remembered dreams and visions of starting a gift shop--a beautiful shop and another of helping troubled kids find a way to make a few dollars without standing on corners doing the drug thing. Oh, she dreams of a room with lots of people microphones in hand waiting for her to say something--fame--yes, she dreams of fame. I tell her, "I believe you have what it takes to have your shop, to have fame and recite my life's Proverb, "Trust in the Lord with all your heart, lean not to your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him and He will direct your path." I tell her how she knows me--spirit to spirit--sister to sister that's how you know me.

She used to sit in the door way across the street--long, oily blond hair, clothes a little soiled. She didn't say anything--just sit and smoke an occasional cigarette. Sometimes, she would sit near the corner or walk--always alone. She started to come inside for breakfast. Never said a word just walked to the bathroom and to the table for coffee and the days offerings. She'd eat and leave without a word. Then, I started asking her if she'd had a hug and she'd sit stiffly as I wrapped my arms around her shoulder. One day she started to answer, "No, I haven't and reach back." She comes daily now and sits-- taking in the morning show. She likes to read too--thick non-fiction novels. Friday, Jane was doing a sing-along with us. Jane and I believe that music lifts the spirit and her folksy music style makes us laugh as we add our own nonsensical lyrics. I ask Jane to play, 500 Miles. "Lord, I'm one; Lord I'm two, yes I'm three...Yes, I'm five hundred miles away from home." I look at her and her face is red and sad. Her eyes--did I see tears? I move slowly across the room and put my arm around her shoulder and wonder where she comes from and where she's going.