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Strawberry in the Street
Strawberry in the Street
I found a strawberry laying on the side of the road today. I was on a stroll home from the store - my bag of groceries under arm - an onion, mushrooms, italian sausage, yellow bell pepper, etc - - all for the spaghetti sauce I plan to simmer this afternoon. Been awhile since I made spaghetti sauce.
It was a fair size strawberry too - plump - unblemished. - just sitting there quietly - almost like it was showing off a bit. So I stopped and picked it up - wondering what anyone who may have seen me do so may have thought - “he must be awful desperate to pick up a strawberry off the roadside.”
I brought it home - washed it off and it now sits at the top my keyboard - just me and the strawberry.
When I saw the strawberry I thought of all the people that would graciously nab the juicy morsel and be thankful for a bite to eat - only if it was just one strawberry lying in the street.
I thought about those who struggled through the depression - like my parents and grandparents - especially on my mothers side. I have seen the scars that were left and never go away. The knowing what it's like to eat water and flower pancakes 3 times a day. The need to conserve and save - just in case.
I have been born into a time of plenty and into a situation of good health - though I don’t take it for granted and know it could end at any moment.
I think of all the homeless that fell victim to the de-institutionalization of America when the government decided we no longer needed funded facilities for the mentally handicapped.
Now they sleep in the streets and sift through garbage hoping to find that strawberry.
I have been contemplating for a few years now about a dream I have. I want to help those people. But, I don’t know if I’ll ever be in a situation to do so.
Every once in awhile - when it feels right - I bring one home for a night. Let them take a shower and wash their cloths. Put some food in their belly and a roof to sleep under out of the rain. I have a niece that does the same - we’re close - and I’m proud of the way she is always giving of herself. Though I do worry about her safety. She is a remarkable young lady at 22 and is years beyond her age, She was hit by a landmine in Iraq about a month after the statue was toppled. It changed her life forever. She’s a writer also and can write circles around me - and though she insists it’s the opposite - I know better.
We’ve both been fortunate - neither of us has been burned yet - knock on wood. But, I am always aware it could happen and I may someday find something missing from the house. But, I try to remember what Christ said - If a man asks for your coat - give him your cloak too.
I figure if they steal it - they needed it worst than me - besides - I have plenty - and I can’t take it with me anyway - even if I do hope it never happens. That may make me leery and compromise my desire to help another - though I hope not.
I never give money to beggars - but I have bought them a meal on occasions.
I’ll keep reaching out - I think it’s what the Lord wants me to do.
Have a blessed day, fortuna
7/12/2006 12:19 am
You are an incredible person my friend. I am proud to know you....even just here in blogland. I feel for these people too...and I know that "except for the grace of God" it could be me. I sometimes don't have quite enough money to live my own life. But I would love to help them out somehow. |
7/12/2006 4:12 am
What a womderful thing to do .... you are indeed a special man. We never know how much we help another, even by the simplest act. HUGGS.....|
Power To FOK
7/12/2006 6:36 am
I knew you were a different kind of man, just from the words you write. It is a window into not just your heart, but your soul as well. |
I am a giver, always have been. Some would call it a server...but its all the same.
Several years ago, I went thru a religious weekend, a retreat one goes on once in their life. Its not like one of these, that you go on year after year. And it opened my eyes to alot in this world and I made some definite changes on my life because of it. That same year, for Christmas, I received a bread machine. Now, I had just gone on my weekend retreat a couple weeks before Christmas, so I felt very guilty receiving such an expensive gift... with others out there starving, looking for a home or just clothes even. So I decided I would turn it into something to reach out to others. I called it my bread ministry...and honestly fresh homemade bread is not something you see alot of anymore. I made bread several times a week. I would only use it for the kneading of the bread, something I have never been able to master. So I could get 3 or 4 loaves done a day. Each day I made the bread, I would keep 1 loaf for my family and give the others away. I had childcare in my home at the time, staying home to be there for my own children, so I would give some of it to the parents of the kids I watched... and then 1 loaf...I would just sit and ponder about. I would ask God to please put on my heart who to give it to. And a name would pop into my head and I would call them, and say I was on my way over with something for them. You would not believe the surprised looks and the many thank yous I got. I would always just say thanks, but its God working thru me.
I wish we lived closer to each other, my friend. I would love to get to know you better.
Love and hugs to you...