Miss Carmen

I met her this morning. After figuring out the best way to get back home from handling some business  (my trek included a cab a two buses),  I met a woman named Carmen at the bus stop. It was a frigid morning, and I'd bundled myself up pretty well in my hooded down jacket, neck scarf, turtle neck sweater, wool blazer, head wrap, gloves and long skivvies under my jeans...down to the woolen socks and fur lined booties. We exchanged pleasantries, and she explained to me about the buses I'd take to my destination. Actually, we were going in the same direction. It was my first time traveling in that part of the city, so I told her I would gladly follow her lead.

Miss Carmen was dressed for the weather, too. Knit cap, neck scarf, huge coat, jeans and sneakers. She told me she had on three pairs of gloves. She had several teeth missing, and the ones that were left were rotten. Carmen spoke in between puffs on the cigarette she held poised between two fingers of her right hand. She told me she was late for work, and was very upset with herself for not getting up on time.

I soon learned that "work" was panhandling at a specific intersection on the other side of town, an area I know well - to which Carmen takes two buses every day. Carmen also told me she sleeps on the floor at the home of her son and daughter-in-law. "I only sleep there. It's temporary. Too cold outside now.  My son lets me stay there; he's helping me out. His wife don't want me there." Miss Carmen's weather-worn face seemed to soften when she told me about her 6 grandchildren. "I have one grandson; all the rest, girls. They love their Nana."

She said, "Excuse me, but I'm homeless. I hope that doesn't offend you." I stood there in semi-paralysis; cause there was something about her that grabbed me instantly. That's when I noticed her opened backpack and her cardboard sign folded inside; I supposed she also had water and a few other provisions for the day. I told her I was honored to be speaking with her today. Miss Carmen shared a great many things as we waited for our first bus. That same son who is helping her out, works day labor - and there's no heat on in the house. But the children are fed and their clothes are clean. Miss Carmen said she's two years clean and sober. She used to do crack. Her husband died suddenly in March of this year - two weeks before her birthday. She buried him on her birthday. My birthday is also in March. You know I asked her... and we learned we share a birthday. Strangely, I wasn't surprised. We are close in age- again, no surprise. The Lord was showing me something.

When we got on the first bus,  Carmen began to testify...said she prays to the Lord every day. She said she asks Him to provide for her for that day, and that day only - and He always does. "He makes sure I have bus fare to get to work and enough to buy some food. I only sleep at my son's, like I told you. You know I take two buses; both ways."  She said she needed some assistance with the Social Security Administration and explained the matter - it's something I know about, so I shared the resources with her. We transferred to the second bus, talking the whole way. "Come on, Miss Bridget, let's get 30 more minutes of  warmth on this bus! It's cold out here!" She said she's working on her life to do better, as God gives her strength - and today, she was going to her intersection to get Christmas presents for her grandbabies. "The store owners and even the security guards where I work have given me Target gift cards. Those are the best! My babies can get something nice. I hope I get a few of those today."

There was something about Miss Carmen that touched me deeply. A kind of awe, and maybe the word is compassion. It was not pity. I found myself amazed by her; the things she knew - her outlook on life. She possesses a simple faith that is at once extremely powerful. She blessed me. Profoundly.

Miss Carmen pulled the cord for my stop ("because it's tricky when you get over in this area - two stops close together like this") - and I was almost sad to leave. We had packed a lot of stories, yea, testimonies in the space of an hour and some change this morning - I was an active listener. I thanked her for sharing with me. She said, "I'm going to tell people that I met a good lady today named Miss Bridget, who really blessed me!" I told her that I would definitely do the same. She rose with me as I got ready to depart, and we embraced. I'd been low key fumbling around with a sum of money in my gloved hand (money I'd previously felt I absolutely needed right now) - not wanting to offend her. But I clumsily pressed it into her 3-gloved hand in a parting handshake, anyway. Miss Carmen was rocked backward into her seat as the bus came to my stop. She saw the money, and the tears came streaming down. She held my hand in both of hers and thanked me profusely. I was relieved that I hadn't offended her;  I knew she had not been expecting anything from me.

Our connection was ordained because I was teetering on the edge of a place of discouragement, worry, and ungratefulness. It's so easy to "go there."  And the Lord arranged it so this lady and I could meet and be of encouragement to one another. "There, but for the grace of God, go I." But even more than that - Miss Carmen's faith showed me that I need to step up my faith experience.

God bless and keep you safe, Miss Carmen. I fully expect to see you again, young lady!