I could hardly talk....

This morning.  I did my normal "get things together".  In the comfort of my home.  Alone.  Pulling out my outfit pieces, one by one.  First, deciding color.  Warmth, and shoes, and anything that will go with a hat, #again...because I've done "lazy hair" all.week.  This still sounds so vain and lucky.  As I walked around my house one last time doing my final check through,  peeking on the sparkle of the tree, and the aroma of that said tree, I knew I was lucky.  My baby now drives to school, pulling away in her nice little safe car. Wearing those cute clothes that adorn her.  Lunch packed ever so perfectly. And so...I continued on...preparing to leave the comfort of home for work.  The ever so dreaded thought of dealing with vendors, people, and the stress of numbers and dollars.  Out the door I went.   My next stop would be Rite-Aid to grab the little things I promised myself I would handle each day...There I actually needed gift tags, ribbon, and bags.  Couldn't pass up some Almond Roca, so I grabbed that too.  On to the line I went.  I was placed right behind a lady all of maybe 50.  Grey hair, pulled into a pony.  A weathered red face, not from drugs or alcohol, but from the sun.  And probably the cold.  She carried a huge backpack.  I am sure full of her nightly warmth, along with a daily change of goods.  A new sweatshirt that read "Lake...something Elementary".  Probably donated.  And the oldest, coldest, dirtiest WET shoes covered her feet.  And so, I stood there. Sorting many things in my mind.  Where is she from?  She's not a local "bum".  We see them.  We donate clothes to them.  What's her story?  What is she buying?  Where does she sleep?  All things covering my mind until we hear "next in line".  She steps up to the counter to purchase minutes for her flip phone.  You know those ones that our kids "wouldn't dare be caught" using.   The amount of minutes, and dollars it took to buy, weren't enough $.  She apologized to the clerk, and out the door she went. Disgraced demeanor, and out she went. I stepped up, still dwelling on her.  After all, she is younger than my Mom.  Is she a Mom?  Did she skip out on life? Mental illness? Laziness? Hippy?  What?  Was it drugs?  So I pay for my goods, and step on outside.  To my car.  After putting my contents in the trunk...I turned back to head into my other luxury. Starbucks.  She's at the phone booth.  Right in front of my parked car. Smiling at me, as she looks down at her pamphlet little notepad, I say to her..."Do you want to use my phone, I noticed you were trying to buy minutes"?  She says..."That is very kind of you, but I just called my sister collect".   I carried on with her about how cold it was this morning, and how the rain was pretty fierce last night...and as I was talking, my lip was quivering.  I don't know why, but I was nervous.  I think more embarrassed for both of us.  And I don't know why.  And so I continued on.  Offering to buy her a sandwich at SB's.  or a Coffee.  I rambled on the nervous Lisa way, about how "killer" the sausage sandwich is...and how strong the coffee is..almost like strange nervous chatter.  She accepted my offer, while smiling at me the whole time.  So off I went...feeling very happy inside to feed her.  Feeling happy for kindness.  That this life does matter.  That things are so material and fancy in comparison.  Does she have anyone for Christmas? When I came out from SB's, and down the walkway...handing her the yummy looking sausage lover of a thing, we exchanged more thank you's, and take cares, and you're very welcome, and be strong, and Merry Christmas.  I find a note on my car.  It read "Thank you for being so thoughtful and may God Bless you."  I didn't bring my camera today, because I have the luxury of many different bags, and purses...I saved her note.  It will sit up high on my special table of clutter notes.  Homeless people exist.  Laziness exists.  Alcohol and drug addictions do exist.  People with tons of money exist, and people with absolutely nothing exist.  These life reminders are in our faces to stop judging, and just be human.  Good will come around if you are kind.  During the holidays and cold months, Kali asked to stuff our trunk full of jackets, socks, and old clothes for this very purpose.  Whatever the circumstance may be, let's not judge.  Homelessness has to be the most loneliness of lonely.  The coldest of cold during the winter months.  I am not big on handing out money.  I just don't do it.  I see lazy.  I know lazy.  I know druggies.  I know losers.  But a homeless person dealing with mental illness will be cold.  And lonely. And sad.  And angry.  But it's up to us to give where we can.  And I am very sure most of you can.  Not dough.  But clothes.  (Bam more rhyme skillz) Warmth.  Food.  Do it.  Happy Friday Fellers.  Get your shopping on? Grub on? Wine on?  Whatever you do, try and smile. 

(p.s. this blog comes to you on Friday, however I write to you on Thursday....fyi. in case you can't sleep)