"Let brotherly love continue. Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares." Hebrews 13
He sat crying, pouring his heart out to me. I remember thinking, this man, he should be stronger than this... not understanding. His demeanour, the one i imagine he would have if it wasn't for the given situation, seemed stronger. So tall, broad, dark, brooding. But he wasn't, he was crying, sobbing, pouring his heart out to me. I , a complete stranger.
He had been through tough times, you could tell this based on his rough, beaten up hands and rough beaten down appearance. His face looked as if no more than 35, but his weathered appearance aged him. His story was an intimate, heart wrenching kind. A drug addict and alcoholic, he battled with losing jobs, homes, money, family. He cleaned himself up, the hardest thing he had ever done in his life he said. He met her there, in rehab. Julia. They had this connection, it made him want to be a better person, it gave him the desire to change his life. They made a life together, had children, two. Than he relapsed. They lost everything because of him. You couldn't help but twinge as this story was laid out, the true guilt that fell of his tongue.
If it wasn't for her, and the love he felt and the pressure she pushed, he wouldn't of went back. He spent the last 8 months in rehab, waiting for her, longing to get back to supporting his family. January 24th he got out of rehab, and he was on his way to meet her. She was waiting for him at there local spot, arguing with another man. This man wanted to be with her, I'm sure at times he probably had. He said that the cops recounted on the report, that the argument escalated and she said NO, I LOVE WARREN. she stepped of the curb. That's when she got hit. The day he got out, she got hit by a car and died.
This was the moment that my heart broke for this man. As he sat sobbing, drunk, covered in his own vomit, hands bleeding in front of me. Crying for Julia, crying for his sorrow was so great he couldn't and didn't want to go on. He felt it was his fault that he wasn't there, he felt that maybe she did it on purpose, ended her life. Either way, here he sits, horribly drunk, beat up and down.
I wanted to do something for him but what? I just sat and listened,its as all i could manage. After all, this was a huge, intimidating, drunk, homeless, native man who approached me on the sidewalk, in fact he blocked my passage to a point i feared for a instant for my own life, and he begged me "please, i just need someone to talk to , listen to me" So i did, and that's when he broke down.
The hardest part was when he said " What would you do, if i told you i was going to kill myself tonight"?. " What would you do?" I said. " I don't know, something i imagine" his response. " No, you would do nothing, like everyone else out there, i don't exist to you and after this you won't even give me a thought"
I tried to fight that concept in my mind, battling with my self to find some kind of reason or answer that would make me an above average individual in this situation, but i had nothing. He was right. what would, or could i do? I didn't know him, i didn't know where he lived, how to contact him or ensure his safety, nor did i even feel overly comfortable in doing so. So what could i do? So this is what i said.
" Warren, all i can do is ask that you don't. Taking your life because of the grief of Julia won't bring her back. The only thing that will make any of this better is if you stop drinking. Julia wanted you sober and your doing a dis service to her and your children by being a drunk. You only feel like dying because your drinking is making you depressed. You are better than this, and you should show her that you are. I can't do anything beyond this because i have no idea what to do. Just please , i ask of you to go get help, and if you want i will take you"
Warren and i parted ways that day with a bus ticket and a pizza that i bought him to help sober him up. He didn't want a ride to rehab, but he did promise he would go, but he said he valued the time i gave him, and that he wouldn't forget it. As he walked away i will never forget his words.
"You have a good soul lady, were all human, and sometimes all we need is our fellow brothers to listen.. not many like you these days" .. my heart exploded.
I can't help now, since last week but to sit and think about Warren daily. He enters my thoughts every day and for a moment i am very sad. Because what if he did kill himself, and i did nothing? It forever lingers now on my mind. The truth is, in a normal situation i would not of even talked to him, i would of been super rude and barged past him. For whatever reason that day, Hebrews 13:2 whispered across my mind as he approached me, and i opened myself up to the uncomfortable, and i offered a ear to a man in need.
I feel its all too often we look down at people who are less fortunate than us, on the streets. Not because we think we are better than them, more often because they make us uncomfortable, there lack of hygiene, there lack of conformity and what seems like no value for life, it intimidates us. I have been trying really hard regardless of the type of person i speak with, to give all individuals the same esteem and respect this year. Its difficult, but I'm so amazed at how it turns out and how my attitude changes with every homeless or misfortuned person i run into. There stories would amaze you.
I am betting that the majority of you who read this post at the beginning felt very bad for warren, thinking he was just some average guy. But when i mentioned he was a native, homeless, drunk man your opinions changed slightly. Really think about that? is that normal, should we be the ones to judge? Really think about that the next time you turn a blind eye, or ear to someone in need. I know i will.
Until next time..
Jenny
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