The salvation army is a strange, glorious, sad place. Yesterday I went there with my mother and a friend of hers from the independent living place. I believe her name was Sharal. Sharal has been through some stuff in her life, quite a bit of stuff, and is no stranger to the salvation army and its help. Mama has also been a friend of the salvation army and I remember gifts on many a Christmas gifts from them.
But on that day going there and sitting in the lobby facing the room of thirty some people whilst I knit as the people of the room's personal TV I pondered over a few things. Why was that guy using my church as a pick up line? Why has that lady left her child in the back of the room while she is in the front? What is that lady saying in Spanish while she is pointing at my knitting? Why do I keep smiling?!
All the day while we were there at the soup kitchen and the salvation army building I was trailing behind Sharal who is in a wheel chair (for reasons too numerous to list but she can walk a little) carrying her oxygen tank and I wasn't bitter about it. Usually I would have whined all day but no, I just felt good and I couldn't stop smiling and waving at people and being kind. Now this was a somewhat different story today while I was at my interpersonal communications class but that is another blog.
I think I was just really grateful for a chance to witness hardships worse than my own and to be able to help someone out with a pleasant heart (full of sodium from the soup at the soup kitchen (good though)). Right now I just hope that God thelps those people there who seemed just lost and angry at the situation, lashing out at anyone who didn't hand the solution to them.
Song: Familiar Ground by The Cinematic Orchestra
Posts
