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.