a surrender - 42

(Continuing "a surrender", chapter six, "there are no heroes in the kingdom of God")

But it wasn’t long before things took a darker turn. One night, two men that we had sometimes seen at lunch showed up late, very drunk, asking for blankets and pillows so they could sleep on the porch. As I went to get those things, one of the guys, Sammy, opened the door and came into the house and I had a hard time getting him to leave. He was ungrateful and angry and aggressive. But I finally left the two of them outside with bedding and locked the door again. Just as I was getting into bed, though, one of the women started yelling that there was a fight. I hurried to dress again and went out. There I found Sammy lying in the driveway, unconscious and bleeding from the head. He had apparently been thrown over the side of the porch by the other guy and fallen ten feet to the pavement. Someone called 911. Paramedics arrived quickly, and also the police. There were sirens and flashlights in our faces and many questions; the police were suspicious of everyone, including me. Then Sammy was taken to the hospital and the other man was taken by the police. Everyone was badly shaken by the experience.

The next morning, Heather and I went for a walk together, trying to work out some of the tension of the previous day. We climbed a tree in the park and sat together. Heather cried. I said I thought our love was especially important here. I said it was like a flower that grows up between the cracks in the sidewalk in a rundown neighborhood. That flower is precious. It is a sign of hope. Heather said she loved seeing flowers growing in the cracks.

Later that week a woman called, trying to find a room for a woman with two young kids. I said I was sorry, we didn’t have a room available. She immediately got agitated. She had called several places and they all said they were full. What was this woman supposed to do, she demanded. Why wouldn’t anyone help her? I said we had couches available, but that wasn’t a good place for children long-term, with all the people that came here every day for lunch. The woman became impatient and angry, she even threatened to “write the editor.” 

That’s when I started to get agitated. “Your indignation won’t get you anywhere,” I said. 

“I just can’t believe that no one will help,” she persisted. 

“Why don’t you take her in?” I asked. 

She paused. Then said, quietly, “I don't know her.”

The woman’s anger drained away then and we began to talk calmly about a way to help them. We finally agreed that the mom and kids could sleep on our pull-out couch that night and then we’d try to find another place for them the next day. The woman seemed relieved and grateful. And, after a pancake breakfast the next morning, we did find another place for them. Those kids were beautiful, with bright smiles and curly hair. And they warmed up to us quickly. When we dropped them off, the little boy asked Heather, “Can you come with us?”

Continued...