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Friday, March 28, 2008

Insanes, Trains, and Automobiles

This has been such a busy week! I can hardly count the amount of time I have spent running around town, taking kids to preschool, attending meetings, and working on stoking all the fires I've got going with my various obligations.

Today, after dropping off an ad that will run in the paper for my church, Bud was pitching a wall-eyed fit to go see the choo-choos he had spyed on our way to the newspaper. Since the historic trains are located a block away, I figured this would be a thrilling detour for my train-fanatic 3 year-old son.

As we're driving over to the train station, we noticed one or two people kinda wandering the streets. This is not uncommon in this part of town, as there are homeless people who live under bridges and in any type of uninhabited, unpatrolled shelter they can find. There was one lady in particular who was standing at the side of the road next to the bus station. I smiled pleasantly as I drove my middle class-mobile past her, with my Britax carseats in the back of my car.

Bud exploded with enthusiasm once he was unbuckled and the door opened, much like King of the Wind bursting out of the gates at the Preakness. Not only did we get to walk through the engineer's area on the steam engine, there was also a chain of diesel engines refueling right across the way, which we got to observe. As we were walking alongside the historical train, taking in all the choo-choo wonder, I started thinking about how easy it would be for someone to come and either: a) snatch my child, or b) kill me and snatch my child. Morbid? ABSOLUTELY! It was one of those creepy, weird, "No one knows we're down here, there are no other people visiting this area, and it's known to have a lot of crime." The fact that we were there in broad daylight didn't ease any of my anxiety, so as soon as we walked to the playground at the other end of the track, we turned around and headed back to the car.

By the time we got back to the car, I could hear all this shouting. The lady with all the luggage was standing in the middle of the road, shouting so loud and angrily that I actually thought either a dog was growling or a man was growling. She was a block away, yet it sounded so near by! I start yelling at Bud to get his little hiney over to the car, which of course, begins a temper tantrum which could only be rivalled by someone telling Lindsay Lohan that happy hour is over. As I'm trying to explain to him that we need to go (without frightening him to the same extent that I am), he's still throwing his little fit. I've seen enough M. Night Shyamalan movies to envision turning around and standing up after buckling him in, only to have this lady all of a sudden standing right there, screaming in my face. We practically peeled out as we left.

As we were leaving, I noticed the crazy lady was loading her stuff into the back of a yellow cab and wondered just what her story was, as well as why she had frightened me. She looked as though everything she owned was probably in those suitcases, and I felt so ashamed of how extravagantly I live in comparison to so many people in our local area who are homeless, including children. In fact, I had even seen a pile of what looked like shrapnel or some kind of weird refuse under the bridge that goes over the tracks. What caught my attention was the American flag draped over that pile of whatever-it-was. It broke my heart to think that it could be a military veteran living over there. (Sidebar: I have even read reports of homeless veterans around the local area who are in their twenties and thirties, veterans of the current war that is raging. Who would have even thought it possible! Definitely not the first image that comes to my mind...)

I'm still musing over this whole experience. I'm not even sure I have any profound words or thoughts to share; just wanted to put it out there as food for thought.

4 comments:

Gretchen said...

So hard. Our church does an off ramp ministry, where we give bags of toothbrushes, contact info for busses and shelters, and tidbits of food and water. I try to always have one in my car, and feel so badly when I drive by a person without one on me. Yet, even as I pass the bag out the window of my car, it breaks my heart at how insignificant my offering is. I know it's better than something, and that you can't necesarily give money to everyone you see, even if you have it, but there are some desperate, desperate souls out there. Even if we don't have any profound thoughts or answers, I think it's good that we're thinking, rather than ignoring...

blessings

Gretchen said...

What I meant to say was "it's better than NOTHING, not something". LOL. I'll bring my brain along next time.

His Girl said...

Oh girl, you are so great at the picture painting!

I'm not sure what to say here, but I feel like I was just there with you and so I had to at least make some sort of an effort to say that the fact that you even are thinking about it now means He's up to something....
and I can't wait to see what that is!

Vindiciti said...

I feel your train pain! My little Austin (with autism) can't go out of his bedroom without a train in his hand, let alone the house. He gets so excited over the trains that always block off 467 that he usually ends up crying.

Anyway, I was recently at a PTSD seminar, and they said they can hardly keep up with the soldiers that need help and ask. There's so many more that have PTSD and DON'T want any help. They usually end up on the streets. Even sadder still, many go in with PTSD from childhood trauma and don't even realize it.

Now they even have a secondary traumatic stress disorder called Compassion Fatigue for those that work, live, or are frequently exposed to high stress situations like PTSD.

It was very interesting, well, the part where the lady who grew up with a military father, joined the military and was one of the first women in combat, and married the military more than once gave her point of view. It was 'Bridges to Healing' by Campus Crusade for Christ International hosted by ELBC. They try and find Christ centered solutions for those affected.

Unfortunately, no one is really aware of this problem among our vets, and worse, few care.

I'll stop typing now. :D
Love you.