Home

 

It was just before nine when I pulled into the grocery store parking lot and though the sun was out, it was still chilly, 50 degrees or so, I thought. Hardly unpleasant unless you were homeless like the little lady propped up against one of the outside pillars of the grocery store. She was small boned and thin, wearing 2 pairs of trousers, mismatched shoes and wrapped up in a tattered blue blanket that didn’t offer much protection from the cold. She met my eyes as I passed her, offering up a mostly toothless grin and nodding. She could’ve been 30 or 40 or 100 for all I could tell. She wasn’t bothering anyone, wasn’t panhandling or asking for $2 bus fare, just sitting on the concrete, hugging her knees to her frail chest, holding tight to the blue blanket and trying to keep warm. She was still there when I came out with a week’s worth of groceries and without any warning, something about her struck me. I unloaded the cart and returned it to the store then for whatever reason (which I still don’t know), stopped and knelt down beside her, asked her how she was doing and did she need some help. She shook her head and with one scrawny hand reached for the imitation Swarovski crystal on my key chain.

“Pretty,” she said quietly and gave me another one of those toothless smiles.

The only cash I had was a couple of crinkled up dollar bills but I pulled them out of my pocket and pressed them into her hand. She thanked me and asked God to bless me.

“Do you have somewhere to go?” I asked.

She nodded, but there was a faraway look in her eyes and I wasn’t at all sure she was aware of me or herself. A customer from the deli next door appeared and slipped a handful of bills into her hand. She thanked him and asked God to bless him as well. He smiled at us both.

“You take care of yourself,” I told her.

“Where you going?” she asked me and when I said home, she said “Me too.”

As I was driving away, the deli customer re-appeared with a container of coffee and a sweet roll wrapped in a napkin. He put them beside her on the concrete, gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze and quickly walked away.

I couldn’t let go of the image of her and her blanket and when I got home, I ran inside for my camera and drove back to the store. She had moved to a wooden bench in front of the deli by then and she looked even smaller and more fragile than before. There was something about her mismatched shoes, one sandal and one regular shoe, that had hooked me.

“Would you mind if I took your picture?” I asked her.

She peered at me intently, at my Nikon, at the Swarovski crystal, over my shoulder into the parking lot. She asked my name and I told her. She looked again at the camera and shrugged.

“Why you want to make my pitcher?” she asked.

“Because I think you’re a beautiful lady,” I said simply and she shrugged again.

I ran into the grocery store to cash a check and when I came out, one of the cashiers was sitting beside her. They were sharing a cigarette and there was something tragically touching about it. The cashier smiled at me and told the little lady to remember, she was off at 2:00. I took my pictures, handed over a half pack of my own cigarettes and a $10 dollar bill. She squeezed my hand, wrapped her blanket around her shoulders and told me she’d be going soon.

“Is it far?” I asked.

“Not as the crow flies,” she said brightly and gave me a wink.