After our salon experience, we all headed out to find a restaurant for supper. We settled on a little bistro just around the corner, mostly because there was pizza and cheeseburgers on the menu. However, it wasn’t the food that made it a rough night. It was a very dirty, homeless lady and her young baby sitting on the sidewalk outside the restaurant.
I thought I had seen poverty before that night…I was wrong. She sat there in her filthy clothes with dirty, stringy hair. Her clothes were black, not because of dyes, because of all the dirt and grime that was clinging to them. I tried not to look at her too much. I’m not sure why. But I couldn’t help but catch glimpse after glimpse as we passed her.
I didn’t give her much thought during dinner, but as soon as we got up to leave, she reentered my mind. My heart hurt for her. Sriyani suggested I give her the rest of her our leftovers. So, I had our waiter box them up and I carried them out to the street.
She was still sitting there hunched over and sickly looking. I knelt down in front of her, but I couldn’t look her in her eyes. All I could see was the baby in her arms. I don’t know if it was a boy or girl, I guess it doesn’t matter. But I saw her shift the baby from her left arm to the right. As I handed her the food, she put her hands together and dipped her head (much like I had seen many times before). She was saying thank you. But my eyes never met hers. I kept looking at the baby. I kept thinking, “I hope it makes it through the night.” I took one more look at the poor pair of souls sitting on the dirty sidewalk and walked away.
My night was restless. I couldn’t stop thinking of the homeless lady and her baby. I couldn’t stop thinking of the look on her face as we passed by her the first time in our clean clothes and newly polished finger nails. I couldn’t stop thinking of her gratitude for the simple gesture of sharing food. It was a rough night, one I won’t be forgetting anytime in the near or distant future.
