Indelible impression

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She sat there alone.  I saw her.  And I knew that God saw her.  How could I share His love with her?  She wasn't sitting at a fancy table like the one above that we typically have in our homes.  She was sitting at a table in the dining area of a homeless shelter for women and families...at a rescue mission.

When I first met Anita, the scene was set as I described above.  While I wasn't homeless, I was living at the mission.  I was a summer intern at a rescue mission in a large city during the what felt like the peak of the economic crisis.  Hundreds, if not thousands, of people in the city were unemployed and many of them were homeless.  Other factors that usually lead to homelessness were also at play - abuse, mismanagement of resources, family conflict, etc. - and didn't make the problem any better, or easier.  We, sadly, had to turn people away everyday.  People with nothing but a bookbag on their backs who'd walked miles during the hottest part of the day to get to the shelter, and even women with children who called our hotline from their vans.

Anita had recently come to the shelter, and gotten in, after she'd lost her job.  She was from another state and had made her way to the big city.  She, along with other men and women I met that summer, put a different face to homelessness for me.  Anita had spent two and half years in China teaching English.  She was a college graduate.  And she was a believer in Christ.  She wasn't like what I thought a homeless person would "be like."  Call me ignorant, but at that point in my life, the only "face" of homelessness I knew was one that was a drug addict, alcoholic, maybe a lazy bum, or a mom who'd lost her job or been driven to this predicament by an abusive man.  I hadn't taken into account the thousands of other people with degrees who could not find or could not get jobs.

During our initial conversation, she brought to my attention that her only family member, her father, was not involved in her life anymore.  After a series of disappointments, she cut him off.  So, she was not and had not planned on going to him for help now.  This led to us discussing daddy-issues, sharing hurts, and pursuing healing together throughout the rest of the summer.

One night close to the end of the summer, we decided to take a walk to a nearby McDonald's where we shared (what feels like now) hopes and dreams.  By that time, she'd found a new job with a telephone company and was on her way to rebuilding her life.  We shared laughs and fears (as we walked over the over-pass to get to McDonald's). She asked what my plans were for when I returned home and after college.  We talked more about relationships with our fathers and how to take steps toward loving someone who is unlovable.  We shared a lot over french fries and sweet tea that night (sweet tea mainly because I am a real Southerner).

During that summer, I developed a passion for justice and for helping the poor and the needy.  God opened my eyes to see people as PEOPLE and not to judge them for what they looked like.  He really showed me that we all need love...especially His love.  Anita and I ended up sharing God's love with each other in such a simple way - friendship.

I'll never forget Anita.  By the end of the summer, we'd built a relationship that I hoped would last forever.  It was one of those once-in-a-lifetime relationships that lasts for a short time but leaves an impression on both hearts that can never be smeared or wiped away.  And it all started at that table in the dining room.