Okay, first, where have I been, right? I'm here, I'm here! And I'm still working out diligently, although, due to scheduling conflicts, Zumba has had to be put on the back burner for a while. I still check in with Christa and the amazing folks at Dance Spa every few weeks... I miss those guys like crazy and, if you want to get up, get out and FEEL GREAT ABOUT YOURSELF, then GO; you won't regret it! Since my schedule is wacky and looooong, I've committed myself to walking five miles or more every, single day. So far, I've lost almost 40 lbs!!
Next (and this is big stuff), I have become committed to the "forgotten people." Who are these so-called forgotten people I'm talking about? They're the men, women and youth living on the streets of Chicago. Guys, there are people all over this world who are homeless with no place to go (not by choice). I'm not on some mission to make myself look good to others and I know better than to have some crazy delusions about saving the world with unicorns and butterflies, but I do feel an intense burden on my heart to do whatever I can to help as many of these people as I can get through just one more day, one day at a time. And then another day. And then another. One day at a time.
So what does that mean exactly? Well, there are many amazing organizations, groups, ministries, etc. out there doing everything they can. But even so, there there are literally thousands and thousands of people who fall through the cracks. These people are usually the quiet ones sitting in corners trying not to draw attention to themselves because they don't want the police to arrest them for loitering or for looking suspicious. These people couldn't care less about the newest fashion trends or what china to use at the holiday dinner table. They are overwhelmingly grateful for dry socks or gloves to help their skin keep from cracking open and bleeding. They don't even care whether or not the items are new. They just hope for something dry and, if it's not too much trouble, without too many holes.
I go out at least once a week and walk around the city with my big, bright pink bag filled to the top with clothes I buy from thrift stores: jackets, scarves, socks, hoodies... whatever I can afford and whatever I can carry. I bring a second bag that I fill with single packets of instant coffee (a luxury if they can find hot water), almonds, granola, fresh fruit, instant noodle meals and my homemade cornbread pancakes. My second bag is insulated so that everything stays warm. Warm cornbread with honey - pure bliss.
Even though I bring as many tangible items as I can when I make my rounds, wanna know what I'm thanked for the most often? My time. I sit a while and chat with these people. No barriers, no "invisible wall" or anything. I just sit down with them as equals and spend time with them. And I learn humility, grace, and joy. I've been thanked for treating them as humans -as if that deserves thanks! Shouldn't everyone be treated that way regardless of what they have or where they live?? Who are any of us to assume that we're somehow better than these people simply because we have roofs over our heads and running water?? Last week, I met a woman named Sheena who'd been kicked out of her senior apartment. A homeless man named Miller came to Chicago to care for his sick mother. When she passed away, there was no money left for him to get home. He's been on the street for two months. When we met, he hadn't eaten in three days. I met people from other countries who'd sold everything they owned, bought airline tickets and moved here hoping for new lives. I met a man named Jim who's trying to get home to see his daughter. I met a business man who lost everything. The point is, these people matter. Every single one of them is a real, live, thinking, dreaming, hurting person. They're not lazy pieces of trash to awkwardly avoid or look at with contempt while we're scurrying around to get the latest deals at Macy's. The next time you're out shopping on State Street (or Michigan Avenue or anywhere else), I challenge you to look a homeless person in the eye and say hello.
I've been keeping a journal of my experience. Just me, my bright, pink bag, and my camera for documenting everything.
And now I'm going to make a request that I've never made before. See that gold Paypal button to the right that says "donate?" Please, please, please make a donation. It doesn't have to be much. $8 buys a thrift store coat. $6 buys a sixpack of socks. Heck, even $1 or $2 pays for a pair of sweatpants to layer under jeans or a pair of knit gloves! Any little bit goes a long, long way.
Be good to each other, okay? Just like these wonderful people I've met on the streets, you all matter.
Love you bunches,
Kelley
