While walking around a bitterly cold and muddy playground one day during recess duty, a little girl about seven came up to me. She showed me how her thin bare pants had beens splashed by other kids, jumping into a mud puddle to get her wet. My heart was broken twice at that moment; first by her having on such thin, summer pants in the midst of winter, and second by the bullies who did this to her. As the recess bell rang, I told her classmates to tell the teacher I was getting her changed into warm clothes, stashed in my closet for days like these.
I had a classroom of all boys that year. Though they filled they typical wild life of a boy that age, I had also taught them to have respect for anyone and anything. They did not laugh when they saw the soaking wet and muddy child, seeing me reach into the cupboard for a change of clothes. I handed them to her, saying to bring me the dirty ones back to me after she changed in the restroom, saying I would wash them. She nodded her head no, asking me to make the change her clothes. I turned to the boys, telling them to put their forehead on the forearm and not look up until I gave the cue to do so. How wonderful they were, turning into silence, not making a peep, never even attempting a peek as we stood as well as we could behind the partially open cupboard door. As I took off her pants, she had on no underwear. Her soaking wet boots had no socks underneath. Her shirt was sleeveless under her threadbare coat. Though I had no underwear to give, I did have socks, a warm pair of pants that fit and a smug turtleneck to get her warm. She returned to class in her new attire, feeling much cozier. My sweet group of boys were allowed to raise their heads, not once talking about what just happened.
At lunch, I asked the school counselor if she had underwear stored in her room. She said no, she never bothered to buy any, though had been given funds for such a thing. I proceeded to buy her several pairs of underwear and socks, rushing to a store close by during that lunch period. I found her on the playground and took her into the restroom so she could put on the underwear. We visited a little at this time, telling me she has a brother in sister and the same school, who also don't have socks, underwear or warm clothes. As it was Friday, I told her I would return on Monday with bags of warm clothes for her and the siblings. My idea was to comb our neighborhood, filled with children, asking for donations. She told me no, none of them would be there on Monday. I asked her why. She said her mom was running away from her abusive dad and they had just gotten warning he found out where they were hiding. They had to leave that night for the next women's shelter, found through a hotline the shelters have, telling where there is space.
I was awakened into a whole new world that day. While my children had a safe and sound home, these little things had nothing to call home. They didn't eveb have anything to properly wear for the season. Likely, they had run out of the house with what clothes they could grab the first, perhaps in the middle of the night. There was a woman's battered women's shelter across the street from our school, no signs indicating it was there among the neighborhood. Just as they had registered they had hoped would be a stay at the school didn't even last 24 hours.
Leaving a life of fright during their plight is a situation none of us want to experience. But, we must help those who do live a miserable life on the road, often in the middle of the night while you and I are sleeping. I have added a few cleaned,stuffed animals to my collection of coats,hats and gloves I carry in the car, to give to those children we seeing standing at intersections or standing helplessly in front of stores. This can give them something which is theres to keep, to cuddle and to love, no matter where they go. They now have a friend which can give them unconditional love. Fixing up backpacks to have their own school paper, ruler, a pen and a pencil, and a granola bare are also nice to leave at shelters. As with the stuffed animal to hug, they will have a pack of their own, not being teased by others why they don't have one.
May they feel the unconditional love we can give them, through small gestures. Many more of those we may be quick to judge as bums may only have story behind them, such as this little girl. Let us feel the inspiration of the Holy Spirit to be there for God's children, no matter who or what they are. Let us also pray that those who think it is funny to taunt the helpless may feel the love of God, turning their lives around, becoming inspired by His Spirit to help the many in need.
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