“So you spent the morning alone? (nod in agreement) Yeah, me too.
As I was sitting and eating with an under resourced friend I rarely see. It all made sense. This is why I do what I do. This is why others sacrifice Christmas day, oven space, Christmas gift budgets and cleanout closets. He is one of the reasons why we fight the urge to walk away from the smell. Fight the urge to tell someone to shut up and instead listen. Fight the urge to correct…to rebuke…defend…defeat.
We are no different.
Well, I little bit different. I mean I showered…yesterday. I am scared what that one girl will think so shaved today. Am scared my cough will become full blown pneumonia so refuse to be outside longer than forced. But I am sure they would too if they had the resources. We aren’t different.
They are better than me.
Once I was having a rough headspace day. When a panhandler gave me a sob story about needing money for food…at dinner time…near the mission…I asked if he had debt. I asked because I assumed he didn’t. That I was worse off. That my years fighting for the American dream have left me in a worse place than him. He replied.
“Yes, but not monetarily” and walked away.
I think I cried that night. My debts are more to do with keeping up appearances. More to do with making sure others think I look good. Making sure I have a nice job title for the next gal who questions me. Making sure I have a soft bed to sleep on…a nice meal to grow fat with…a tasty beer or whiskey or journey story.
And yet after all that, I too woke up alone in a 3 bedroom house. I made a pancake, alone. I made a pot of coffee, just for me. I looked at the lone present under the tree and called the sister who gave it to me to open it on the phone with her. Then became too busy to call back. Too busy worrying I wouldn’t be liked. I wouldn’t have enough to give.
Tim awoke Christmas morning and opened his gift “from Santa”. A few pairs of socks. He found some coffee. And pulled out the food saved for breakfast. He might have called someone on the phone and told them “Merry Christmas”. I don’t know, but I do know we started our days the same. And hours later sat at the same table to celebrate Christmas together. Somehow that made Christmas insanely beautiful to me.
Because we ARE the same. We are human. We are all 3 o clock people.