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blogging101, Casa de Elizabeth Orphanage, Creative Writing, Faith and Writing, Family, Journaling, Memories & Reflections, Writing 101
I started following Nurse Kelly’s blog the other day, Nurse Kelly: Health. Creativity. Joy., and ran across a post that brought up a similar memory for me. Her post was about seeing a homeless person in a sleeping bag on a church’s steps. You can read the post, Softer Steps, on her blog.
It reminded me of a something that happened in 1985 when our son Bran was seven. And though it wasn’t a huge event in the scope of the world, it was somewhat eye-opening to my family.
Peery’s Egyptian Theater, Ogden, Utah
We were driving through downtown Ogden on the way home one Saturday when Bran said from the back seat, “Look! There’s a guy laying down on the sidewalk.” He was lying in front of the Egyptian Theater of all places. Lord Drollery pulled over and parked and we watched for just a minute to see if he was moving. People were walking past him and not even giving him a second glance. Finally we told Bran to stay in the car and we got out and walked over to the man.
He was breathing. He was dirty. Smelled like he hadn’t had a bath in ages, but there was no smell of alcohol about him, so we didn’t think he was just drunk. When we couldn’t rouse him, his lordship hurried up the street to the nearest pay phone and called the police. (Believe it or not there was a time when cell phones weren’t readily available and 911 was only in use in 50% of the states, Utah NOT being one of them. But I digress…)
First a patrol car came by and stopped, and within a few minutes, an ambulance. They checked his vitals and loaded him in the ambulance, and after giving our names and a few details to the officer, it was over. The whole episode took maybe 20 minutes.
The next afternoon I drove up to McKay-Dee hospital to see if I could find out anything about the man as they wouldn’t give out any information on the phone. He was in a room, and since there weren’t a lot of HIPPA regulations then about who could see whom, I was allowed to go in and say hello. His name was Johnny. We chatted for a few minutes, just long enough to satisfy my curiosity and make sure he was being taken care of, then I stopped at the nurses’ station and asked about him.
His name WAS Johnny from what they could ascertain, but they had no last name as he had no ID. This was not the first time he’d been brought it. As it turned out, Johnny was diabetic. I didn’t know anything about diabetes in those days; now, being type 2 myself, I know he’d been having a low sugar event, which meant he probably hadn’t eaten in awhile. The fact was, he could have lain there and died from insulin shock.
I walked out of the hospital that day thinking about all the people who had just passed that man by. In their minds I wondered if what they saw was just an old drunk. It made me question my own tendency to make snap judgements of people and situations. I like to think the experience made me a better person. And I know it had quite an impact on Bran, too. It was one of the reasons he was eager to go down to Imuris, Mexico and work at Casa de Elizabeth orphanage years later when he was in high school.
The take away? People and situations aren’t always what they seem. And a little bit of compassion can go a long way in making someone’s life better.
Pictures from Casa de Elizabeth, Imuris, Mexico… (Couldn’t find where ours were posted on Google, but these are from another mission team that went there. You can read about it on her blog.)
radioelizabeth.caster.fm
Thanks so much for sharing this story. Sometimes we’re so wrapped up in our own lives, our own struggles, our stereotypes and prejudice that we don’t even question our behaviours. I’ll take this moral to heart and be more careful.
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The good thing is, it doesn’t have to be a homeless person. It can be your neighbor, a store clerk, someone in your family. Shoot, if we could just learn to walk with out heads held up and make eye contact, give away an honest open smile, that ALWAYS makes someone’s day better. We seem to think it’s big stuff we have to do, but not so. So SMILE a lot at folks!!! The world will be a little better for it.
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The unfortunate situation in a big city like NY is that, what you witnessed is all too common place. But there are those of us who don’t let the apathy, or fear, of others to influence us in helping our neighbors – known or stranger. I know that the world is a better because of you, my friend. 🙂
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Thank you, dear heart, but I’d rather see the world be a better place because we ALL respond to the needs of people like that. But something tells me that no matter how much we raise our awareness, it will always be as you say, all too common place. Heartbreaking.
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Oh, yes, I’ve must rather see the world be a better place because we ALL respond. We’re not taught to do so. This is not part of any school curriculum. And perhaps not even honestly part of most inner work gatherings. Some, yes. But not enough.
When the world stops seeing the differences, and realizes we’re all part of a whole, that will be a first step.
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Amen, sista!!!
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Thank you so much for the shout-out. You probably saved that man’s life. I feel exactly like you do about the nonchalant attitude that exists when we see people like this on the street. Facing my own ambivalence was what sparked that post in me. It’s even sadder to think he may have died and still no one would have cared. And just look at how your intervention impacted your son. That is a real case of making a difference in the world. Thank you for this. xo
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Thank you, too. I had forgotten about that until I read your blog. That was the first time I heard anything about diabetes. One would like to think as our culture has changed we’d have become more sensitive to the homeless. But my gut tells me that’s not the case. I was just glad the hospital actually took him. I really appreciated your post.
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It’s sad that it has almost become “normal” to see sights like that. And it is the sight of a human being in some kind of need, no doubt about it. Thank you for your kind words and for sharing your story as well. 🙂
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I like how you observe, how you see. You don’t just notice, you see and recognize. You process stuff with your delicate sensitivity. I enjoy how you weave the tapestry of your stories. Reading you is like a journey.
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Thanks, Zareen. Feels like a bad “trip” sometimes. 😀 Just don’t get the same buzz… (At least I would IMAGINE you get a buzz. I was always too straight-laced to do that.
)
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Great title! And what makes you you is that you also act on what you see with compassion.
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Not always, but I’m getting better.
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Yes you are. But you were already great
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