I was a young college student living with my ex-boyfriend in the back of a small antique shop when I had my closest encounter with a homeless person.  True, I was about as homeless as I have ever felt in my life given we weren’t supposed to be living in this space meant for our business, but I easily blended in with the rest of the bathed society and chose to identify myself with them.  It was during this time that I became a regular plasma donor.  I received fifteen dollars for my first successful donation and forty-five dollars for the second – potentially a nice supplemental income for a college student.

I took off one evening, upset at my ex-boyfriend, with no intention of returning.  I planned to donate plasma the next day and receive forty-five dollars.  Being anemic, I had to stock up on high protein foods the night before to boost my hermaticrit level.  Without a high enough red blood cell count, they would turn you away instead of risk leaving you without enough energy.  I didn’t have enough money for bus fare much less a can of red beans when I wandered out that night.  I came near a church where someone had set up some blankets for a shelter, but it seemed to be unoccupied.  I had no idea where I was going to sleep that night, so I decided to poke around this shack and hope for a place to lay my head.  I’m not sure how I got to a point where sleeping on some dirty blankets next to a church somewhere in downtown was acceptable, but I didn’t twice about it at the time.

To my surprise, I was invading the privacy of a homeless man lying on a mattress watching t.v. from his battery-operated set.  I don’t remember what he was watching – I don’t even totally remember what he looked like – only that he was probably in his thirties and wore a cap, glasses, and an unshaven beard.  I apologized and intended to move on, but the man insisted that I stay, offering me the spot on his mattress while he slept elsewhere.  Somehow that wasn’t enough for me, and I proceeded to explain my need for a can of beans.  Who would have thought this homeless man had more cash with him than someone as respectable as me, but it wasn’t long after my story that we were walking out of the local food mart with a can of Van de Camp beans that he had purchased for me.  He opened it, of course, with a knife he carried with him.  I was overwhelmed by this man’s kindness and never once felt threatened by him, nor did I ever get the sense that he ever expected anything back from me.  I told myself that I would return the next day with my forty-five dollars and dole out a portion to him.

After a successful plasma donation the next morning (thanks to the can of beans), I headed back to my friend’s shelter, excited to share with him the fruit of his kindness.  To my disappointment, there was no shelter left standing – only the church gardener belting out the loud noise of a hedger.  It was as if the makeshift shelter and the friend I had met there never even existed.  I considered stashing the cash somewhere that he would find it, perhaps in a nearby tree with a note.  But what if he never came back?  And wouldn’t it be pointless if he did, in reality, never exist and that the whole encounter was just a gesture from God to restore my hope?  I’ll never remember what I spent the forty-five dollars in my pocket on, but I can’t help but remember nearly ten years later that kindness can come from the most unexpected people and places.

Deborah Wilson

No children were ever more loved even if we lived in tents, we are here for special reasons it is life lessons grandmother teaches. We are here for a gather kin are coming who were scattered,grandmother walks away to a small hill this time I can not follow.

I hear her voice raised in prayer singing softly very old words,even the heart and spirit of a child of four understands this is sacred.

Suddenly all is chaos everyone is running lights are shining in our eyes,a white man in uniform demanding to see everything in our camp.

Someone he said reported wild parties, drugs, and drinking, instead he found us a simple extended family here to learn from the Water. Grandmother stood proudly before this man who sneered at her,head held high she told him we are here for connections to our spirits. You will find no evil things here only love and caring, we sing and drum sending our prayers upon the wind with sage and sweet grass only. They gave us only three days then we must move on, they did not like our kind he said hanging around making messes,we made the good folks nervous.

You people need to live like humans give those children real homes, but not here in our town there are enough here on welfare already.

He could not see or understand our life was the better one, not cramped into a small house but free to share the wind and see Father Sky above us.

To this day I am thankful for the childhood grandmother gave us,we worked hard and asked no one for handouts we lived the way of our ancestors.

No,our path was not an easy one we faced many troubles,yet we lived in freedom proud of who and what we were and learning from all
spirits!

granny!

we “cry” freedom, when in truth we beg for chains

School is out now and i am starting a new school for a fresh start. still sick and not eating all day i signed up for girls basket ball. What a mistake i was too tired to carry on. i felt bad for my mom and dad i felt like a terrible burden. what parent wouldn’t want there child to be 100% healthy? Well i also got pulled out of that school for the same reasons. That year passed i was home alone all day and it was really getting to me. lots of testing also but no answers. the doctors put me on lots of acid reducers but since i have been taking acid replacers i have been much better.

I am going to start a new school year and make lots of new friends. What i have learned from all this is to really thank god for your health, in one second everything can change. i had never of thought that i would have gotten sick for two years. So remember to enjoy life give lots of hugs and kisses and thank god for your health.

Eve