I was driving down Route 11 after several important morning meetings and passed a homeless person. She was trudging along carrying a small dog while pulling several suitcases. I later found out that the suitcases weighed almost more than her frail 78 pounds. I pulled my car over, rolled down the window and inquired, “Do you need some help?” She stared at me for a moment, let out an audible sigh and whispered “yes”. I asked her if she was hungry and found out that she had not yet eaten that day and it was already noon. I asked her where she was headed and it was quickly apparent that she was not really sure. Somehow, she had traveled over 50 miles from Winchester to New Market in the last few days. Determined to give her a break, I asked if she would join me for some lunch. She hopped in the car and that was the start of my interesting 48 hour journey!
Now, in a rural area one has to travel quite a distance before you get to many restaurants so we had quite a bit of time to talk. I told her some basic things about myself but mainly wanted to listen to her. As a counselor, I know how therapeutic it is just to have somebody really listen. It turned out that she had traveled all the way from a southern state and ended up in Washington, D.C. She explained that while she found the Shenandoah Valley very scenic that it was actually “easier” to be a homeless person in D.C. She found that the D.C. police were helpful and would make suggestions about where to get food and find shelter…I was so intrigued to learn more so I listened intently and tried to really understand her plight. I then asked for permission to share some of her story.
As we chatted and got closer to my home she suddenly realized where we were going. She became frightened and uncomfortable and told me that she preferred not to go to my home to get cleaned up. So, I turned the car around and headed back the other direction since she indicated that she wanted to head south. By the time that we arrived at the restaurant, I could tell she had sized me up and determined that I was a kind and safe person…and I had done the same.
We shared a meal and continued to sit and chat like friends. She eventually smiled, told jokes and let her personality shine through. I did the same. Several hours later we made our way to Kline’s Ice Cream for dessert. I wanted her to experience the best ice cream in the valley! I explained the “traditions” about the infamous ice cream stand and shared some stories about high school years and how kids would frequent Kline’s after football games. She seemed to enjoy my stories...and I enjoyed hers.
I ended up spending the entire afternoon with Gina. I found her to be a delightful lady. I was amazed by her inner strength as she slowly shared her life story. As a counselor, I provided a safe environment to talk while carefully peeling back the layers of a difficult existence. What dawned on me is that many people could end up like Gina. As an infant she had been given up for adoption and was then abused by a trusted family member. The abusive situation launched her onto a difficult path. She had limited support from family or friends but for a period of time led a “normal” life. She found a job, got married and settled down but then her husband died and she was thrust back into an unstable world. She had tons of medical bills and tried to move in an attempt to find an area with a lower cost of living. In the process her car broke down and eventually she found herself on the street. All I could think about is how fortunate people are in life when they have a stable upbringing…While not guaranteed, a stable childhood often helps one become a stable adult.
During the conversation, I glanced at Gina’s shoes and could not believe how worn out they were. While they appeared fine on the top the soles were completely worn down from all her walking. I suggested that we go shopping for a new pair. She was very resistant and explained how frivolous most people are with spending money. However, I insisted and we finally agreed upon visiting an inexpensive store nearby. After we arrived in the store, Gina was like a kid in a candy store. She cruised the aisles in search of the best bargain. She would glance at a pair, view the price tag, shake her head and move on to the next pair. She explained that as a “experienced” homeless person it would not be wise to wear slip on shoes as she had once had the shoes stolen right off her feet while sleeping. We must have spent close to an hour in the shop as she explained why one pair was more appropriate than another. We laughed like school girls as she tried on various styles and colors. I noticed how Gina slowly relaxed and chatted with people that we passed in the aisles. Eventually, she decided on a child’s pair of bright pink Addidas with aqua laces.
I next suggested to stop at the nearby Dollar General store so she could pick up some items that I imagined she needed. Again, she was adamant about being super thrifty so she slowly and carefully decided what she really needed. We stood in the deodorant aisle for over 30 minutes as she sniffed each one and delighted in the how it would help her smell pretty. She was obsessed with her smell and convinced that strangers could immediately tell she was homeless due to the odor. She picked up some Febreeze spray and exclaimed how wonderful it was. My heart broke as she explained her “routine” of spraying it on shirts, rinsing them in any bathroom sink and then squeezing them until they were dry enough to put back on. Hours later we left the store with fewer than 10 items. The clerk was rude as we checked out and seemed to hint that Gina was taking advantage of me. Interesting…she did not even know the entire situation or the extent of Gina’s journey. Nonetheless, each item seemed to be of great value to Gina and she carefully tucked them into the void spaces of her suitcase.
There was one final “task” that Gina wanted to do before I left. She carried a small toy poodle with her as she traveled. He was her treasured companion (whose name I will also not reveal). She was concerned about his paws because his nails were growing too long. I revealed that I had a pair of nail clippers with me so we sat on the bed and snipped his tiny nails. Her eyes became teary as she worried for her little friend but we successfully accomplished the manicure. Again, she hugged me as tears streamed down her face and she explained how her pet had helped her make it through some difficult times. She then exclaimed how much “fun” she had spending time with me. I did the same as I wrote down the area resources that she might take advantage of while in the area.
She declined my invitation to take her to a church or shelter but seemed to value the information and advice that I provided. She explained that she felt more comfortable on the road now and that was her life. <sigh> How could I possibly understand her decision but I respected her wishes. As I pulled out of the hotel that evening, I could not help but worry about my new friend…I just hope that for one afternoon I helped her feel safe and happy!
<Watch for Part II of Inspired to Live >