No where to go:Thanksgiving

a homeless Thanksgiving

Rachel stood on the sidewalk waiting. The chill of the November evening seeped through the second-hand coat she had gotten at the Goodwill a few weeks earlier.  She shivered. It wasn't long before the car she waited for pulled up to the curb.  Her daughter, Tina got out and as always, was dressed to kill.  Under a black pea coat, she had on a black velvet dress. That came to the top of the thigh high, black, 4-inch heel, platform boots. The makeup was perfect and the hair was bleached blonde.  She looked like she stepped out of a fashion magazine. Rachel approached and gave Tina a warm hug.  It had been weeks since she had seen her.  Reluctantly she let Tina go.  “I’m glad you could come,” she said.    

She led Tina to a nearby store front church. She opened the door and the smell of Thanksgiving greeted them.  Inside there were over a hundred people sitting at portable tables.  All hunched over paper plates of food, piled so high it was a wonder that the food didn’t slide off onto the table top.  There was an aisle down the center of the room and at the end was a long table covered in all the various foods one associated with Thanksgiving.  There were tin foil pans of mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, and stuffing.  Smaller pans had cranberry sauce, peas, and gravy. In the middle of the table was a large turkey in the process of being stripped clean of its meat.  Behind the table in an industrial food warmer was 3 more turkeys and more pans of potatoes and such.  They were handed plates so full of food it took two hands to hold them, so they didn’t buckle.  

They found a couple of empty chairs near the assistant pastor, Luann.  They sat down and Rachel introduced her daughter to Luann.  “It is so nice to meet you,” Luann said and added, “you are very pretty, like your mother.”   Tina blushed under the makeup.  Rachel was taken aback. She had never thought of herself as pretty.  Attractive yes, but pretty?  Her stomach growled and she remembered the feast set before her.  The food was good and hot and there was so much of it.  There was enough for everyone to have seconds if they wanted.  Many of the diners took advantage of that and went for more.  For many in the room that were the largest meal they had, had in a long time.  Rachel felt blessed that the shelter she stayed at served dinner, not all did. The one she was at had plenty of food donations. Enough to feed the 20 women staying there. There were many nights where there was enough for seconds. However, the shelter only provided dinner they didn’t provide lunch.  Between the hours of 10 and 4, they weren’t allowed in the shelter.  So for lunch, they went to the soup kitchen.  At the soup kitchen, there were no seconds and the meals weren’t always the best tasting.  But when you are hungry, you will eat anything and for many that went there, it was the only food they would get for the day.  

While Rachel ate she could tell that her daughter felt out of place.  In that room, it was a different world.  One Tina wasn’t familiar with. It was the world she only had a glimpse of. Even though she too was homeless.  She was lucky and had a friend who was letting her live with her for a bit.  She was one of the homeless that often get over looked.  The ones who go from couch to couch.  Rachel felt bad that she had caused the problems that they now faced  She had self-destructed and in the process tore apart the family. Because of her, they were struggling to survive.  Shaking off the guilt for the moment, she told Tina about what had happened since they had last seen each other.  It was a calming banter.  

They had been chatting for a bit when Tina’s phone buzzed.  It was a picture message.  She pressed a few buttons, and exclaimed, “Aw, he is so cute!”  She held up the phone so Rachel could see the picture.  It was her ex-step daughter in a hospital gown holding her new born son.  The message with it said he had been born a few days earlier.  Rachel once again felt that twinge of guilt at the pain she had caused.  The phone was passed around to those nearby.  They all oo’d and ah’d how precious he was.  Rachel turned away.  She felt tears coming on and didn’t want Tina to notice. With effort, she was able to hold them back.

In the back by the food table, off to one side was a man who had been playing softly, some music on a keyboard.  An elderly black man got up from his seat and approached the man.  He whispered something to the man playing.  The man on the keyboard stopped and started to play an old hymn. Rachel recognized the music. But couldn’t remember the name of the song,  The old man reached into his breast pocket and pulled out an old worn harmonica.  He raised it to his lips. The sound that came forth changed the old hymn.  It was no longer a stuffy church song.  It had been transformed into the blues.  Everyone stopped and listened. Not a sound was made as the old man played.   After the last haunting note the old man placed his harmonica back in his pocket and amidst the applause, he returned to his seat and began to eat.  The applause continued for a few seconds and then as if on cue everyone stopped at the same time and went back to eating.  

Rachel looked around the room.  There were so many faces she recognized.  She knew some of them by name.  All of them were like her, homeless and walking the streets during the day.  Many looked for work.  Only to find that many employers wouldn’t hire someone homeless. They assumed they were homeless because of drugs or alcohol.  Although there were some that were homeless because of those things, many were just down on their luck. If their luck changed and they were able to find someone to hire them, it was often only part time and at minimum wage. What money they earned was not enough to go get an apartment alone and most times not even with a roommate. Programs that are designed to help with housing are so full of people who need the help, that the waiting list for housing was years long. So, more often than not they ended up at the Y or in a group home. 

Then there were those that were like her, mentally ill. Although, there are programs that try to help them and keep them off the street. There are still some who fall through the cracks in the system and end up having to fend for themselves. Rachel felt thankful that she had won her claim for disability, and would be able to get off the street.  She would hopefully be in her own place soon.  She just needed to find a landlord willing to rent to someone homeless.  Once again there was the prejudice, that if you were homeless there must be something wrong with you.  Many that sat there that evening would be in a shelter later that night.  However, there were some that because there aren’t enough beds in the shelters or because they had used up their allotted time at each shelter and had no more to go to, would end up on the street for the night.  Streets that were getting colder with each day dipping deeper into the winter.

 Rachel thought some more about the things in her life that she was thankful for; her children, a warm place to sleep, the meal that she had just eaten and a chance to get back on her feet.  She turned back to the conversation.  After a few hours, that passed too quickly, Rachel had to leave to be back at the shelter before curfew.  Tina offered to drive her there, so that she didn’t need to wait in the cold, for the bus.  The drive was short.  They arrived at the shelter with minutes to spare.  They sat and made plans to get together sometime in the next week. They said their goodbyes and Rachel got out of the car.  But before shutting the door, she said, like she had said many times before and would continue to say for as long as she lives, “I love you.”  Within moments Rachel stood on the curb shivering as she watched the taillights drive away.

Reviews

[roarke]

Well told story. There's all kinds of life we have to cling to, but it's life and you can still love.
Good descriptors, lots of indirect, in the moment information about the woman, her life and her daughter. A good showing write. Easy to read and memorable. Thanks for sharing.

[Winslow Des Totes]

Ow. That was great, but damn, old memories can sting. :D I didn't see anything wrong with grammar or anything that I could help you with. Overall I'd say it was perfect, and not just because you wrote it. Amazingly powerful write Mom! I love you too!!!