Faces in the dark.
She looked up into the darkening sky; her once bright, blue eyes now fading. There was nothing he could do now except try to keep her moving. The ground she now lay on was soiled from the rain from the night before. The railroad tracks where the only thing dividing her from her little shack, which she referred to as “the hooch”. It was made of scrap wood and plastic but she called it home. It sat back in the woods, much too far for her companion of several years to carry her to. They were both moving up in years. His hair, almost all gray, was pulled back in a big ponytail. Her hair was still black but now it was covered in the mud that she lay in.
Weeks before she was baptized in our little church, she cried over past sins. She became a regular fixture. People came to care about her, which was not what she had been used to. She made an impact. Now it was ending. The years of alcohol had started claiming her body. Her liver was gone, kidneys shot, and right here and now, her heart was giving out. She peered into the life that lay ahead of her, her trusted dog by her side, in her companion’s arms.
There would be no big funeral, no mention on television. She would become just a rumor among people who are better off than she was. Tonight, she lay with all her worldly possessions with her: a flannel shirt, jeans, and a backpack. She was just another unknown face in the dark. here finale words were, “I want to go to church,” and then she died.
This is true story that took place in Johnson city, TN I know because I was a part of the life of this woman. I was involved in a small ministry there with a friend and my father every Saturday we would take out food and blankets to these humble people, yes some wanted to be there but others faced circumstances beyond their control and wound up on the streets, but they all have names they all have families, and they all deep down have a desire to survive, so the next time you see a homeless man or woman be kind because most Americans are one pay check away from joining them.
Weeks before she was baptized in our little church, she cried over past sins. She became a regular fixture. People came to care about her, which was not what she had been used to. She made an impact. Now it was ending. The years of alcohol had started claiming her body. Her liver was gone, kidneys shot, and right here and now, her heart was giving out. She peered into the life that lay ahead of her, her trusted dog by her side, in her companion’s arms.
There would be no big funeral, no mention on television. She would become just a rumor among people who are better off than she was. Tonight, she lay with all her worldly possessions with her: a flannel shirt, jeans, and a backpack. She was just another unknown face in the dark. here finale words were, “I want to go to church,” and then she died.
This is true story that took place in Johnson city, TN I know because I was a part of the life of this woman. I was involved in a small ministry there with a friend and my father every Saturday we would take out food and blankets to these humble people, yes some wanted to be there but others faced circumstances beyond their control and wound up on the streets, but they all have names they all have families, and they all deep down have a desire to survive, so the next time you see a homeless man or woman be kind because most Americans are one pay check away from joining them.
Published on July 23, 2014 12:09
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Ponderings to Ponder
In my home town I have a weekly column which I write called ponderings to ponder so I have decided to post this blog titled the same to give readers something to ponder about.
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