Entering alone, I try not to draw attention.  Not making eye contact or slowing down to utter more than a hello, I am looking for safety within a crowd.  Unsure of my welcome, I sit near the rear-alone near the aisle in case I need to make a quick exit.  Everyone seems to be sitting with someone and friendly chatter floats all around as I sit in the silence of all alone.  Perhaps you think I am removed or withdrawn; perhaps you think I am aloof and unfriendly.  The truth of my isolation and loneliness are carefully hidden behind a faceless mask.  Finally it is time to depart, and I fly out the door as I entered.  A widow or single, someone different than the crowd, disheveled and perhaps not clean, whatever the description no one desires to be alone in a crowd.  Do you see me?

It is never easy to take all the children to the store.  I feel those disapproving stares when a melt down of epic proportions commences.  You coldly walk by and avert your eyes or worse you comment on my lack of control over my children.  You never stop to ask can you help.  Having no idea the child in question is my foster child I am trying to give a safe home.  Abused and abandoned, he has never known anything beyond the disdain of every significant adult.  Unfamiliar faces, unfamiliar places, unfamiliar situations ramp us his insecurity and often leads to cries of anguish.  It will take patience and time to establish he is safe in his little mind.  I am in it for the long haul and will provide the reassurances he needs.  A kind word, an offer to help, or even a simple distraction would help my day.  He is not a bad child--but a child who has been badly treated in the past.  We all need to help him and show him there is more.  Could you stop for a minute?  Do you see me?

I had to leave everything behind and now I am living in a strange place without any of my things with me.  Donated clothing, shoes which do not fit, in fact not one thing that is familiar in a place to keep me safe..  I feel as if I am in exile through no fault of my own.  The bruises and cuts and scrapes tell the story of my flight.  My children are bewildered and miss their dad---they do not really understand. " Why did we have to leave our toys, our home?  What did we do?"  It is all so overwhelming that I cannot take the first step.  I sit and I stare and wonder "Why Me" and "What am I going to do?"  Desperate for help, afraid to take a step, fearing for my life I do not know which way to turn.  Do you see me?  Are you willing to help?

How will I pay my rent and utilities this month?  Food stamps help, but there is so much more they do not cover--hygiene products, cleaning supplies, gasoline.  My money is stretched thin.  There is not one dime for emergencies, much less extras.  My children have school fees, need school supplies, and uniforms are now required.  I am barely squeaking by and the list of needs is growing.  I am desperate for help and need someone to give me direction.  Living in poverty is not about being poor, it is about living without hope for a better day.   Do you see me?

"Defend the weak and the fatherless;

uphold the cause of the poor and the oppressed"

Psalm 82:3


  1. Every one of us needs to be seen, needs to be loved, where we are in the moment. May we be quick to reach out to the lonely and the lost.
    Blessings, Lulu!


Your comments keep my writing and often cause me to think. A written form of a hug or a pat on the back and an occasional slap into reality---I treasure them all!