Homeless Under the Bridge – Part 1
I told a story of my encounter with the homeless people under the bridge last Sunday. I thought I’d retell that story for the web and then include what has happened since.
The story began with the responsibility that we handle for the Ministerial Alliance through our office. That responsibility is to manage the funds that we have for assistance to people who need help. Shelly handles these interactions most of the time and keeps a record of who we help and how we help them.
Last Thursday I happened to stop by the office and Shelly was talking to a woman who said she and her significant other were homeless and living under the bridge down by La Tienda. We were expecting a bitterly cold night with temperatures down into the lower teens. They wondered if we could give them some money to go to Wal-Mart to purchase some thermal underwear. The policy of the Ministerial Alliance is that we do not give money to people, so our answer was, “No.” But we were able to provide them with a motel room for the night, which they accepted.
Since I wandered into the office in the middle of the conversation, I asked the woman if there were other folks living under the bridge. She told me that there had been 8 or 10 people down there the night before. I knew that we couldn’t put all of them up in a motel, but I was concerned about them with the bitter night ahead.
I decided to take the Pastor’s Discretionary Account checkbook and go buy some thermal underwear for these people. I bought ten pairs of long-johns and a package of socks to take down to the bridge. I also had a $15 gift certificate from Albertsons which the Hospital gave me for volunteering as a chaplain. I took that gift certificate and bought makings for burritos. Courtney, John (Courtney’s boyfriend), and I made the burritos and I took them, too.
It was an interesting experience going down under the bridge for the first time. I didn’t know who the people I would find down there were. I didn’t know what they were like. I didn’t know how I would be received. It turns out, I needn’t have worried.
They had a dog who came running up to check me out as I first stepped under the bridge. I called out, “Can I come in.” “Hey, brother! Come on in,” was their response. The group was four guys. They were sitting around a small fire. A couple of them had quarts of beer they were drinking from. They had a tent for two and it looked like a couple of
blankets. Two of the guys looked like regulars and two appeared to be “just passing through.”
I told them I was concerned about them with the cold coming tonight. I passed out the thermals and left a bag of burritos. They thanked me. One of them said, “Man, if your beard was whiter, you could be Santa Claus!” We chatted a little bit, then I made moves to leave. They told me there was another couple over on the other side of the bridge, too. So I headed over there and gave them a set of underwear and some burritos before I left.
That’s the story I told in church. I had a variety of emotions as I headed down there the first time. A little fear; some concern that I would be perceived as some sort of “benevolent dictator” coming in to toss a pittance to those less worthy and I. But I don’t think that is how they saw me.
They offered many words of thanks. But I felt awkward being thanked for finally doing what Jesus has been telling me to do my whole life. I didn’t have enough relationship with them to tell them I should be thanking them for enduring this state so that I could come down there with gifts for them.