5 - A Cry for Help -

It’s been more than a year since my calling in March of 2023, and to be honest, I expected to have written a lot more in the last twelve months or so. Time flew by, and now I have a lot of catching up to do. After the calling, I had two incidents that really touched me, changing me in he process. What you're about to read is the first of such incidents.

Around two weeks after my calling, something out of the ordinary happened. I was leaving my therapist’s office when I heard a female voice calmly say, “help me.” I looked around but saw nothing except an empty parking lot. I shrugged it off and got into my car. Was it my imagination or did someone genuinely need help? Or was it a trap to lure me out just so someone could rob me? That’s my paranoid side kicking in. Against my better judgement, I rolled down my window to listen for any signs of distress, just in case someone legitimately needed help.

As I turned onto the street, I noticed a cloaked woman in a neighboring parking lot, hunched over a shopping cart filled with junk. She reminded me of an old crone, similar to a slow-moving gypsy I saw in Rome once. It must have been her that had asked for help.

I drove past her, debating whether to stop to give her some money. “I shouldn’t get out of my car; it could be dangerous. Why take the risk?” I thought, but then I remembered she had asked for help. She needed someone's help. Shouldn’t I help someone in need? The old me would have driven away without a second thought, but the new me pulled over to think about it.

Checking my wallet, I found twenty dollars and a $100 bill I had forgotten to deposit in the bank. “They asked for YOUR help,” I thought. “So, help already!” In the past, I rarely gave homeless people more than a few bucks, and even then, it was only on rare occasions. I pulled out the $100 bill without a second thought.

The person with the cart was now across the street. It struck me as odd that they must have moved incredibly fast to cover that distance, especially since they were moving slowly when I first noticed them.

I crossed the street and called out, “Excuse me!” The person stopped and lifted their head from the shadows. To my surprise, it wasn’t an old crone but a woman in her mid-40s. “This is for you,” I said, handing her the money. “God bless you,” she said gratefully. “I can get a nice warm room for the night now.”

Wanting to confirm, I asked, “Was that you who asked for help back there?” “Yes,” she replied, a bit embarrassed. I wished her a good night, and she looked me in the eye, saying, “God bless you.” I could sense her sincerity. “God bless you, too,” I replied, meaning it genuinely for the first time in my life.

While driving home I felt a change within me. What was the change? I became more sympathetic to the plight of the homeless. In the past, I would be reluctant to give money to someone in need. Today, I'm more than happy to help give what I can. But giving money seems like it's not enough. What else can I do to make a difference? I should do more and I will, but for now, it's a start.