Elonzo

It was the next to the last day of my May 2015 trip to NYC.  I had been in Times Square again in the morning, picking up a few souvenirs for my family, before heading to the Mission.

I decided instead of carrying the packages around with me all day that I would take them back to my room.    This required me to catch the subway from 42^nd street to 145^th.

The subway, most times, is a means to an end for me.  I have had several people ask me if I am afraid of the homeless.  Sometimes my biggest fear revolves around the subway.  There is something about being in a tubular, tin can, packed with people, as if sardines, barreling through the underbelly of New York City that terrifies me.  I catch myself having those, “what if” thoughts.  What if we crash? What if there is a terrorist on board?  What if, What if, What if.  The 42^nd street station is long, and yes, it is a long way back to my room, but I didn’t want to carry the packages for the entire day.

I made my way on to the subway car.  I looked around the car to find a seat.  Sure, I could hang on to the pole, or lean against some part of the car, but I really wanted a seat.  There was only one left.  It was behind me, and it required me to sit next to someone.

Every morning before I leave, I pray.  I pray that God will put together the encounters in that day.  This morning was no different.  It sort of goes like this, “Lord, lead me to the places where you want me to be.  I pray for each person I meet in this day, that You will speak through me to the person who needs Your encouragement and love.”

Most people on the subway are people like you and me, traveling to work or appointments.  Most have a blank look on their face, headphones in their ears, head buried in their electronic device, waiting for their stop. 

 

I made my way over to the seat and sat down, putting my packages between my feet.  I looked over at the man who I was now sitting beside.  He didn’t have a phone in his hand, nor earphones in his ears.  He gave me a nice smile.  I smiled back and gave him the normal, “How are you today?”  Most times that I ask that question, people are obliged to give the, “I’m fine. How are you?” routine.  This man did not.  He just started in with, “For someone who has no family, or friends or anybody that cares, I’m o.k..”  I responded, “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that you are having a hard time.”  I stuck out my hand, and gave the introduction that I have given each and every encounter before him.  “Hi, my name is Sue.”  He gave me his name, Elonzo.  He began to go through what seemed like his life story.  (It is a long ride to 145^th street.) I listened. 

Elonzo is African American, and about my age.  He has admittedly lived a very hard life of drinking, drugs, prison and now homelessness.  Yes that’s right homeless.  The only seat left in a subway car is next to a man who is homeless.  (I'm sure a big smile came across my face.)  Thank you God!!

 

Elonzo

   

Elonzo knows the Lord and says, “I can’t get through any of it without Him.”  I encouraged him to stay in the Lord and not give up.

Elonzo and I talked until it was my stop.  I gave him a D & D card.  Told him about what I was doing.  When my stop came, Elonzo’s spirit had lightened.  He was encouraged.  He wished me well.  As I stand up, we shook hands and said our goodbyes.  I gathered my packages, and I stepped off the train.

The Stirring

It seems that many of the encounters that God directs are centered on drinking coffee or eating a meal.  Thursday afternoon, May 21^st was no different, the call for coffee, and writing, was again nagging at my heart’s desire.  I had gotten off the train at W4th and was walking a bit before I went to The Mission.  I actually wanted to stop and do some writing.  Doing that while sipping on a Latte was the direction I was headed.  I stopped off at Crave coffee shop that I’d been to before on previous trips.  I ordered my drink and sat down at a long table with eight stools around it.  I like to sit next to the window so I can look out while I write.  The coffee shop had a few other customers at other tables, and there were some ladies at the end of my table.  I began to write, and sip, not more than 5 minutes went by and a man came in to the shop.  He had a 2x4 that was about 2 feet in length, along with an electrode looking type device.  He was wearing a non-descriptive hat that was quite worn.  Yes, he fit the description that I had seen so many times before.  He had a dollar bill in his hand, and was at the counter trying to order.  He was hovering over the pastry section, pointing at each one, waiting for the affirmative that from the clerk, but all were too much for what he had.

My eyes were fixed on what was happening.  I put my pen down and walked over to the counter, and asked him what he would like.  I couldn’t understand what he said. The clerks were kind of annoyed with him, like they just wanted to get rid of him.  I was between the man behind the counter, and the man with the 2x4, who was now sitting on a stool, closest to the counter, at my table.  I told the man behind the counter to give him what he wanted to eat, and that I would pay.

I noticed there was a customer at the next window ordering who was taking all of this in.  It was difficult to figure out what the 2x4 gentleman wanted because he kept asking for a bologna sandwich.  They didn’t have bologna.  Finally I offered him a chicken wrap, coffee and brownie for dessert.  I got out my found debit card, handed it to the cashier, when suddenly the customer standing at the window ordering took money out of his wallet and handed it to me.  He said, “Here I’m in too,” and handed me some cash.  I looked at him in awe, and thanked him.  He too had been stirred in that moment.

That is the first time in my year and a half of doing this that someone has offered in that situation.  He saw what was happening and wanted to help.  Sometimes people don’t know what to do, so they don’t do anything.  In this case, an opportunity presented itself.  It was like a domino effect.  One action, lead to another.

The 2x4 guy sat down, and ate.  I found out his name was Charles.  He was obviously mentally ill.  I asked him about the 2x4, and electrode-looking device.  He had a logical explanation.  It was a device for measuring something about the full moon.  I’m always willing to engage in a conversation, even if it doesn’t make any sense to me.  It made sense to him.  I gave him Dunkin Donuts cards to use at another time.  We sat, he at one end of the table and me at the other, feasting on the nourishment that each of us needed at that moment.

Charles

Something Different

This May 2015 is my fourth trip to NYC in the last year and a half.  Each time has been different, of course.  Each time has brought a refinement to my life and this work.  This time is no exception.

To recap, I go to NYC to work with the homeless.  Most of this work is done on the street.  However, I do go to the Mission at Lafayette & White.  I also make a point to go to the RHOW Food Pantry and Soup Kitchen.  This time I was working on the street mostly.  Working on the street entails recognizing those moments that God has orchestrated, and walking through them.  Most of the time it is sensing a persons need.  To be honest, most do not approach me asking for money.  I approach them.  They may not even have a cup, or hat.  Those are the best encounters.  I can just tell that they are in need of what I have.  It isn’t necessarily the D & D card that they need.  It is that human touch of a handshake, and those words that say, I care about your existence.  God cares about your existence.  I am razor-focused on the homeless, and spend a great deal of time, if they are willing, encouraging them to press forward and not give up.  They tell me how hard it is.  They share their fears of shelters, or trains or people. 

I was drawn to Times Square a lot on this trip.  On May 18^th, I went to Times Square.  I had a few encounters before running into a man outside of a Starbucks (of course.  Funny thing is that I didn’t go into Starbucks.)  I was interested because he was engaging.   He was asking for donations to help the homeless.  I thought, ‘Wow!  Right up my alley.  Another person working for God to help the homeless.’  He was dressed in white hi-top sneakers, jeans and a nice, clean, white t-shirt and wearing his colorful hat sideways.  His hat matched his personality, colorful.  His first words to me were, while pointing to a statistic on a sheet of paper, “Do you know that there are so many homeless youth just in New York City alone?  That’s why I am here.  I’m here because I need your donation to help them.”  I have to admit, I was drawn into his spiel, and after all we were both there doing the same work, just in a different way.  This was my thinking.  He had a little square lock box that read, “New York City Homeless Outreach,” on the front.  It was propped up on a covered stand, so it stood out.  He opened the box, and I gladly threw in a 5 dollar bill.  Of course, I introduced myself.  I asked if he was homeless.  He said that he wasn’t, but was volunteering his time to do this work.  I thought how noble for this man to give of his time in this way.  I asked him where the Outreach was located.  He said 118^th and something.  I didn’t quite catch it.  He said the expected, God bless you and thank you, and I moved on.

I walked away and felt good about the encounter, but then I came upon 3 men next to a newsstand cart.   They were all in a row, with the same kind of set up.  The same paper, and same lock box but different people.  These men were homeless.  I really didn’t have to ask, but I did anyway.  I didn’t want to assume.

These guys said they were not from the same organization as “John”.  They gave me a quite worn business card.  I asked if they were working for an individual or organization.  They said they worked for the Times Square News.  “They help us.”  What was strange to me was that I had never seen an organization “pimp out” the homeless to get donations.  It appears that that was what was happening.  These man were begging not just for themselves but for a head person who took the money and spread it to others.  I left them and finished my day.

The next day I woke up and prayed about where God wanted me to go.  I again was drawn back to Times Square.  This time I wanted information.  I went to the spot where I thought John would be.  He was in the same vicinity as he had been the day before. 

I approached him with boldness.  I asked, “Where is it, that you said the NYC Homeless Outreach is located?”  He responded, “118^th and 8^th avenue.”  I asked him if he had a business card.  He said he was all out, since he had been there since 5 o’clock that morning.  (My thought was ‘Wow!  This guy is young and dedicated to his cause.’)  I turned around and left.  I hopped back on the train to go uptown.  I got off at 125^th and walked the few blocks down to 118^th and 8^th avenue.  I looked all around that area.  I stopped and asked people if they had heard of it.  No one responded with a yes.  One woman, who was obviously homeless, said that I should check on 116^th street and 8^th.  Of course, I took the time to ask her name and give her encouragement & a D&D card.  Her name is Natalie.  She is confused about religion. 

I walked down to 116^th street.  Yes, there is a Food Pantry and Soup Kitchen there.  I walked in to a very busy reception area, but a man that worked there walked up to me and asked if he could help.  I asked if he had heard of The New York City Homeless Outreach.  His response was negative.  He had never heard of it.

I hopped back on the train to head back to Times Square.  I was a little steamed that I had taken this time to try to find a place that didn’t exist.  This time when I went back to where John was, there was another person who was taking over for him.  I walked up, and began to question John.  He was quick to say that his shift was over.  He pointed to the other guy and said, “He is the manager.”  I thought, “Great! Maybe I can get some answers.”  My first question was, “Where is your organization located?”  He said, “123^rd street and Lenox.”  I told him that was not what John had told me.  He said he didn’t understand why John had said that.  I asked, “If I go to 123^rd and Lenox, what am I going to find?”  He said I would find two churches.  He said the Outreach gives a percentage to two churches that are right across from each other.  I asked what the name of the churches were.  He could not give me the name of the churches.  He could not even spell the name of the churches.  He did make an attempt.

I questioned Marc the manager some more.  Come to find out, Marc and his wife are homeless, and have been for two years.  He talked about getting a voucher to get a place and having to turn down two places because they were in bad areas.  Of course, I gave him a Dunkin Donuts card.  I told him what my thoughts were concerning his management of operations for New York City Homeless Outreach.  He seemed to not know what to say.  I shook his hand and left.

The next day I again returned to the spot.  Again John was there (John is a young guy, who denies being homeless.  He seems to do this as his job,) and another man (I didn’t get his name.)  They were next to a Times Square Newsstand.  I questioned them again.  John was visibly annoyed by my presence.  I asked if they had jobs, because it seemed that John’s volunteerism was more of a job, and not volunteering.  The other guy said he had a job.  He pointed at a building across the street, and said they call him when they need him.   They both knew that they couldn’t convince me that they were legitimate.  Seemingly as a last resort they hauled out a paper they said was their license.  I asked if I could take a picture of it, and did.  They also took out a booklet about the Times Square News.  I took a picture of that too.  They said they were on facebook.

I have thought about this part of my trip a lot over the past few weeks.  This operation is in the heart of a hub in New York City, as many people pass through Times Square in a day.  These people are approached in the same way as I was.  Many do not pay any attention to them and pass by, but many throw in a few bucks.  There were people that gave their leftovers from their dinner to them. 

These men are the equivalent to The Salvation Army bell ringers, seemingly without the organization behind them.  Why is this so different from what the Salvation Army does or any organization that collects money for the homeless?  The difference is that the legitimacy of the organization cannot be substantiated.  While it does have a license to operate, there seems to be discrepancy in where the organization is located.  I say, “Great!” if they are actually helping the homeless.  There just seems to be something “not right” about everything to do with this.

FEAR May 15, 2015

In other blogs I have written about fear.  Fear of people, fear of things.  Fear can be so paralyzing and daunting to the mind.  We can be stunted by its seeming power over us.

I boarded the bus, in Rockland, a bit before 9.  The minute I got on the bus, I became nauseous.  Literally, the minute I got on the bus.  I was fine beforehand.  There was no explanation for this mysterious, sudden ill.  It was a good thing there wasn’t anyone sitting next to me, because I was restless.  I couldn’t get comfortable.  I had that gagging reflex that came and went with the nausea.  I had no other symptoms, just something to put a crimp in my trip.

I began to read on my phone.  This didn’t seem to help things, but I felt compelled to read my Bible app.  I was browsing around the app, there is a place for notes. I had written a note exactly one year ago tomorrow, May 16, 2014  “Fear Not”  I clicked on the note that I had written.  Deuteronomy 31:6 was all that was written.  So, of course, I went to the passage.  I don’t even remember the “where” of how I had received this verse, but it was very appropriate for the trip I was making.

Anyway, when we hit Boston, I began to feel a bit better, not best, but better.  I walked thru the bus terminal thinking maybe I needed to eat.  I ordered a sandwich and figured I would eat when I got on to my bus.

This trip I decided to take a “Bolt Bus” from Boston to NYC.   My reasons were sound, more leg room, better wifi, and cheaper too.  I went to get in line and the attendant came and encouraged me to have a seat because there was a bit of a wait.  So I dragged all my stuff (I actually thought I took less this time.)  I sat down between 2 people.  One gentleman asked me a question about his ticket.  I must look knowledgeable about such things.  The other person got up and left.  I stayed where I was.  An older gentleman came and sat beside me.  His wife was behind him.  I asked if she wanted to have my seat.  She declined.  They were very funny with one another, bantering back and forth.   They started talking about their bus ride on Monday.  “The bus caught fire, and blew up!”  I was in shock!  What!  I wanted details (or did I?)  So they told me.  They were kind of laughing as they were telling me.  I’m sure I turned about three shades of white.

 They were using the Bolt Bus to come to Boston, from NYC,  to visit their Son.  (This really wasn’t a story I wanted to hear.)  The bus driver had problems with the bus and had to pull in somewhere on the way to get a small repair done.  A short while later, they were back on the road.  They had only been on the road for about 20 minutes, when the bus caught fire.  The man continued his story.  He said they got everyone off the bus and all their things too, when the bus just blew up.  I’m like horrified.  I’m sure my face showed it.  I kept saying, “Really??”  “Are you kidding me?!?”  This is like watching a movie about a train derailing and having to go on a train the next day.

The older gentleman looked at me smiling, and said, “Oh, you’ll be alright.  Just stick with us.  Statistically, it shouldn’t happen again.”   That’s all well, and good, but what if statistics are wrong.  My mind was racing, searching for a way out of having to get on the bus.

It was in that moment that God reminded me of the verse that I had just been reading.  Deuteronomy 31:6 “Be strong and courageous.  Do not fear or be in dread of them, for it is the Lord your God who goes with you.  He will not leave you or forsake you.”

I smiled, gathered my things and when it was time, got on the bus.