I was going to be later than usual getting to church tonight. And I had no good reason, I lolly gagged around the house doing nothing but piddling. In the past I've tended to get to evening services too early and got bored waiting to get started. I'm not much of a socializer sometimes and tonight was one of them.
At church I parked in a visitor's slot. I've been told time and again this is for visitor's, to please park in regular parking spaces. My response to the parking lot monitors; "Hey, this makes it look like we really have visitors !" I think the "monitors" turn their backs and pray for my spirit of rebellion to depart. Hey, the parking spaces are closer to the door and I don't care much for exercise.
Tonight was exceptionally windy and as I rushed to the entrance I could have sworn I heard someone say, "Lord, please help me!" It was then I detected the woman crossing the parking lot towards the main doors. I thought she was complaining about the strong "breeze" that was capable of tossing her slight frame to the Land of Oz.
"What did you say?" I asked as she got nearer, expecting some mild complaint about the gusts of wind whipping her hair into her face.
“Oh great you heard me! Let me tell you what just happened. I got kicked out of my house and need thirty three dollars to get a bus to Austin."
"What do you mean you got kicked out of your house?" I asked, aghast that someone would be kicked out on a night like this that promised to be a very wet night.
This question began a story detailing how “Woman” caught her brother in law and his wife stealing from a local business forcing her to turn them in to the police. Of course this angered her mother in law, whose house Woman and her husband lived in with the rest of his family (before they got hauled off to the slammer). Once the mother in law discovered who was responsible for her precious, thieving son being incarcerated Woman was asked to leave the house, with nothing but her purse, which held a cell phone, and the clothes on her back. No support was offered by her whimpy husband so his mother allowed him to stay.
Since I was late to church, the parking lot remained empty throughout Woman’s entire dissertation. I kept praying for witnesses to arrive so I would have someone to collaborate with. Someone who would talk reason to me, preventing me from doing what I was beginning to fear was the inevitable.
Woman kept emphasizing her plan. Get on a bus and head to her daughter’s who she couldn’t contact to wire her money as she didn’t have a phone. This I found hard to believe as I know homeless who have cells, and a post office box to receive their bills!
“How much do you need?” I queried, leery of my reaction. I was known to be impulsive, something I was trying to find a twelve step program for.
“Thirty three dollars, but I already have eleven. It will cost me seventy five cents to catch the local bus to get to the bus station down town.”
I opened my wallet and counted out the difference she was lacking, “Here, let me drive you to the bus station.”
“Oh, no, it’ll be easier to catch the transit. Down town is much to busy.”
“Well, here is a dollar for that. But I insist on driving you to the bus stop."
“But you’ll miss church.” she protested.
“Oh well.”
I led her to my PT Cruiser questioning myself now. What if she had a gun in her purse, what if there was an accomplice nearby? Her story seemed believable. I didn’t smell alcohol on her and she didn’t seem high on drugs.
The transit bus stop was about two miles away with no shelter or bench at the pickup site. I thought this was peculiar. Most of the other bus stops had canopies and seating accommodations. This was a legitimate pick up though. But look, there just happened to be a store handy where Woman informed me she could wait at, since the weather looked nasty. I realized we were now not in a dry area of town, (liquor could be sold and bought here) and I resumed my qualms of Woman possibly purchasing fermented beverages with my donations was I was out of sight.
After I deposited Woman, with the spare Gideon Bible I carry in the glove compartment for reading material as she waited, I drove off I berating myself for my foolishness, yet thankful I hadn't been led blindly to my death by a carefully planned mugging. I imagined her heartily laughing at her profits. It took her 30 minutes to gain twenty three dollars, that's forty six dollars an hour. She gets a better salary than I do. She was probably calling someone now to come pick her up and help her drink her "bus ticket".
I had pretty much missed church so I went on home, telling myself it was in God's hands now. I tried to convince myself I’d only done what God would have expected.
The next morning at the woman's bible study I casually mentioned seeing Woman in the parking lot. Several of the attendees informed me that she was a regular. Woman had a different story every time but it always boiled down to needing some extra cash. She was always offered help by the benevolence committee but refused to fill out the necessary forms. The church wouldn't present her with money, but with coupons for groceries or utilities, that way they controlled fraudulent claims. Pretty sophisticated approach, maybe I should have followed their lead.. Maybe I should have been slower to react even though I felt prompted my God. I I kept my foolishness to myself. I removed a compact from my make up bag to cover the "Sucker" sign tattooed on my forehead. I was amazed it wasn't as bold as I'd imagined. No way was I going to let my friends know how I'd been duped. I'm known for being pretty cheap ( I prefer to call it retirement minded) so I couldn't face the inevitable ribbing I'd get. Why didn't I stay to see what Woman was up to when I left? Because I'm not a private eye, that’s why. I watch enough action/drama TV I should have gotten some spying skills by osmosis. Back to rationalization; I could afford the twenty three dollar lesson I learned. At least it wouldn't send me to the poor house. The only thing that would keep me from feeling like a looser right now was...chocolate, lots and lots of chocolate.
Fast forward a few weeks and some extra pounds (the result of lots and lots of chocolate) and I'm getting on the computer to check my email. Hey, there's a message from a Christian chat room friend I haven't heard from in some time. I scanned the missive and dropped my candy bar. This message required more than a cursory scan; I had to read each word one at a time. Great. My added weight had been unnecessary. It seems my friend had been too busy to correspond with me in a while because her mother had showed up unexpectedly. Her mother's mother in law had evicted her and some wonderful lady (that my friend referred to as better than a good Samaritan), had contributed to the "send mom home" fund. Elaine was ecstatic with gratitude.
She had lost contact with her mother when she had remarried some low life that no one in the family had approve of. Apparently mom didn't make healthy choices and was ashamed to ask for help from her kids. The stranger that had provided the necessary funds for her to make it home, had also provided a bible for reading, something her mom had had plenty of time to accomplish on the bus that made frequent stops, and where she had decided to turn her life over to the only one who truly cared enough to die for her. Her mother was now getting counseling and rehabilitation through an abused women's project in town keeping Elaine on the road a lot between appointments. On the road in ...Austin.
Elaine was so glad she had devoted her spare time to praying for her mother's welfare, especially a few weeks ago when some unknown sensation had caused her to increase her prayerful efforts. I looked at the candy bar at my feet, now being licked by my cat. In a feeding frenzy this wouldn't have deterred me, I'd have picked it up, rinsed it, and resumed where I left off; but now my desire for chocolate induced anesthesia was gone. I dusted off the nearby treadmill and went to work evaporating the results of my favorite comfort food.
Oh, and the next day I met a woman in the parking lot at church begging for money, not the same one that I had aided. I entered the worship auditorium praising God for causing me to be late to church one night making me available to help a woman in need.
