I Need To Talk To You
I need to talk to you God
I know you are watching
With tears in your eyes
As this beautiful earth…
I need to talk to you God
I know you are watching
With tears in your eyes
As this beautiful earth splits from the skies
The news is not good
Your people are lost
Fighting, poverty and greed
At what price and what cost
Oh Lord I know you are waiting
For all eyes to fall upon you
Other than praying Lord
What can I do
How can I help
Those who do not see
That it is you we should follow
And not that of greed
I hear of shootings
And terrible crashes
And parents bashing
Women being beaten
And children being whipped
Men losing their pride
As jobs are being ripped
Oh Lord I can see what
Is happening today
But I am one voice
And I no longer know what to say.
Together They Weeped
Help me, please someone help me. I am drowning.People walking each direction. No one stopping…
Help me, please someone help me. I am drowning. People walking each direction. No one stopping but each person looking. No one getting involved. Too busy living, distracted minds.
One soul tossed a few coins in the direction of the cry. Lost children scampering to gather precious solids into their tiny hands. Claiming change for their own; needed for a nibble of food.
Blood droplets covering ivory skin. Knotted hair, rats won’t even come near, afraid to take it as their own nesting ground. Eyes no longer showing whites but rimmed with red. But no one stops to listen, no one stops to help.
Clothing tattered and torn. One could only speculate that something horrific had just happened, but it is not our problem.
A poor man with all his belongings walks by with his cart. He stops, he scratches his dirty head. Children jeer, people point. He gazes at the poor soul and then turns a way. He takes his precious commodities out one by one. He lays each item carefully on the paved street.
At the bottom of the cart lays a worn piece of fabric. A very important item to him. It is used to cover the holes in his cart so that nothing can escape. He takes it out and holds it up. He inspects for dirt and shakes it with vigor.
Upon satisfaction he walks over to the poor lady lying half-naked in body and soul. He bends down ever so gently and lets his open-gloved fingers caress her forehead. A tear drips down on to her face, erasing a spot of old blood.
He mumbles something that only she can hear. He looks behind him to see if his cart is still in tact. He sees a gathering of watchers, but he pays them no mind. He turns back to her and he gently and ever so carefully places his covering over her.
He pulls at the corners until no visible wrinkles can be seen. He digs into his green baggy pants and pulls out his change. Without thinking he opens her fingers and places it all in her hand and then closes her fingers over as if to protect it from the outside world.
He watches her to see if she will move or speak. He looks deep into her eyes and sees reflections of the deepest skies. Her eyes say thank-you and his return with tears of you’re welcome.
He is saying, I wish I could do more, but I have nothing. He turns and looks at the crowd who are whispering among themselves. He can almost predict they are thinking, who is this bum and where did he come from. Why doesn’t he clean himself up and get a job.
The man walks back to his cart and puts each piece back in its rightful place. He looks through tears at the streets that he once walked through with so much pride. His heart being stabbed by painful memories of a past not so long ago.
He walks towards his journey of no where. He is searching for a new shelter, for the night will come soon. His head hanging down thinking of that poor soul. Wondering why no other would reach out to help.
So intense in his thoughts he did not notice someone walking towards him. Footsteps went without notice. A hand placed on his arm brought him back to reality and he looked to his side and there stood the poor lady who he had covered.
He stopped and she let him guide her to an oak tree. He looked into her eyes and he saw the most beautiful eyes searching his. A few minutes of soul bonding passed and then she said, I come from a family that was well blessed. Sadly to say a year ago today, they were killed in an airplane wreck. I have been left a lot of money. I was taught to share and I prayed and prayed about what to do with it. I set the scene and then you walked by. You have nothing and yet you gave me everything you had. I want to thank-you for being a kind soul. You remind me of my Mama and Papa. I give this to you.
She opens his hands and lays a huge pile of thousand dollar bills. She wraps his fingers around his treasure as if to keep the outsiders a way. Tears are flowing down his face. He is speechless. He has a large knot in his throat and his stomach.
She leans into him and gives him a warm embrace. He feels the human touch of compassion and love and he carefully places his arms around her also. Together they weep.
Hiding under the stairs I noticed movement between the slats. I stopped and turned around. Cautiously walking around the frame I saw two whites staring right towards me. I walked slowly towards the direction as I knew it was a person, maybe a child.
I knelt down and as I came closer to him I saw his arms go up and cover his face as if I was going to hit him. He tried to twist his feet so that he could escape easily. I managed to find an old torn newspaper and made this my seat.
He quickly became aware that I was not going to harm him. He and I sat quietly. So close we could touch each other but our bodies remained separate as if an invisible screen was between us.
I observed his clothing as his shivering began to subside. He was in dirty clothes that looked like they had never seen a rock and water. His shoes had holes in them and the souls looked worn.
I bet he is hungry I thought to myself. I took my purse off of my arm and placed it on my lap. The movement startled him and he jumped back. I sat with my fingers resting on the clasp of my purse. Our eyes locked as if we were in a dual gun war. Each waiting for the other to draw first.
I watched his feet as he crept ever so quietly back to his original spot. He let his eyes drop from mine and they wandered down to what I was holding. I asked him, ” Are you hungry child”?
He nodded at me but still did not move. My eyes lowered to my purse and then I looked back at him. My eyes were speaking to him letting him know he was safe with me. I saw his shoulders relax a little and I opened my purse.
Rummaging through it with his eyes never leaving my fingers I found two items. I handed them to him and he quickly took them. His eyes told me thank-you. The speed of his hands putting the hard candies in his mouth proved that he was near starvation.
We sat for a while. He was enjoying the flavor. I looked between the boards of the stairs. Wondering if anyone had noticed us. It was if the streets had parted. Dropping souls that would interfere. Leaving the two of us alone to discover each other.
He finished his candy and I could read his eyes that he wanted more. I dug in my purse but could only find one piece of gum. I handed it to him and he savored it. When the flavor dissolved he swallowed it.
I don’t know how long the two of us had been sitting there. I knew that I was becoming uncomfortable from my sitting position. I stirred and this time he did not move. I got up and decided that I better go. Errands were waiting to be finished.
I looked at him and smiled. He looked up at me and his sad eyes became his face. I started to tell him that I was going to leave. I was going to tell him to go home when he tugged on my dress.
He stood up and I noticed he was just a small child. No taller than three feet. I asked him, ” Where is your mama? Do you live close to here”?
As fists formed he rubbed his eyes and I could see big tears sliding down his cheeks. My heart was breaking. This child had no home. Or had he run a way from home? I bet his parents are looking for him.
I reached down and gave him a big hug. I wanted to pick him up and take him home with me. But I dare not. The colors of skin separated us. I leaned down and gave him a kiss on the cheek and he wrapped his little arms around my neck. He would not let go and he almost pulled me back to the ground.
We looked at each other with tears in all eyes. We both knew the rules but our hearts were ripping. I couldn’t do it. I could not let him stay here all alone. I took him by his hand and we stepped out into the light of day.
One of his fingers went into his mouth. Afraid but hope bringing us together. I walked forward and he followed me. We made it safely through the city streets and I saw my home in sight.
I stopped and looked at him. I glanced towards the house. He dropped his finger from his mouth. Neither of us said anything. We walked to the front door. I unlocked it and we both went in.
I took him to the kitchen table and had him sit. I opened my refrigerator and took out some left-overs from the night before. Soon I set a piping hot plate filled with biscuits and fried potatoes. The smell of the hot ham infiltrated his nostrils. When I handed him the fork and spoon he wasted no time.
I sat across from him watching. After wards we talked. I asked, “What is your name child”?
“Darrell” he said.
“Do you belong somewhere close to here”?
” I did, but they told me to find another place to eat. Mama said there were too many mouths to feed”.
” Would you like to stay here with me”? He nodded his head.
I took him by the hand and led him into the bathroom. While he sat on the step-stool I started some bath water. I went to the one room in the house that was not visited often. I walked over to the dresser and pulled clean clothing out. I think these will fit. The two boys are about the same size.
Before leaving the room she walked towards the nightstand and picked up the framed photo. It was her son Tod. Tod had died two years ago from a fever. She hugged the photo to her heart and then rested it back on the stand.
She closed the door softly behind her and went back to the bathroom. She got out clean towels and laid the clothes beside him. He looked at me and I took my cue to leave him to bathe.
That was the first day of the rest of our lives. Neither of us ever looked back. Today I am sitting in this grand auditorium. I am watching my son graduate. He is going to be a doctor.
Grandma was a 92-year-old with a mind age of 50. She lived in a flat in downtown Seattle. A city full of life and lights that never dimmed. Betty lived with two other occupants, her two dogs, Frankie and Johnnie.
These two dogs watched over their master, never forgetting that at one time they each had lived in a shelter for homeless dogs. Frankie was a golden retriever and Johnnie was a black lab. She had adopted the two at the same time, both being about the age of one year.
Each year at the holidays, you could find Betty deeply involved with the less fortunate. She could be found in the kitchen, peeling potatoes, or you may see her out on the front line, filling up plates, with fresh slices of turkey, green beans, and a nice piece of juicy ham.
Betty also spent many Sunday afternoons at the nursing homes, reading to the patients, or going room to room to pop in and say a quick hello. Hospitals got to know her visits so well, that she was known as God’s angel.
When she wasn’t involved with helping someone else, she could be found in her apartment, feeding her dogs first and then rummaging through her cupboards to find herself something to eat.
Her cupboards were less than half-filled. If you peeked inside, you would possibly see a few cans of soup, some canned vegetables, and a can or two of meat. In her refrigerator, you would see water in a jug, maybe some milk, and always her stored glass jar of ground coffee.
Betty had been brought up by parents who were well-known. They had made their fortunes by selling and buying stocks. She remembered many parties that had been held in their home. Lots of food and drink available, smoke lingering in the air from cigars, and gambling.
Betty also remembered many a Christmas’s, when the door knocker would sound, and her father would open the door to someone hungry and cold, and her father would shut the door in their faces, yelling harshly at the beggars to get a job free loader.
Betty remembered pretty dresses, and shoes and socks that matched. A nice warm bed at nights, stuffed dolls standing on shelves. A warm bath awaited her each morning, as her nanny came in to wake her up. Meals were served in the large dining room. A long, rectangle table with many chairs, but the only one being seated at most meals was herself.
Betty was not schooled in the public schools. She had a private tutor that came to her home five days a week, and for four hours each visit, she was taught how to read and write.
Playing with other children was prohibited. Her father wanted no one less than his own kind entering his door. Betty’s best friend was her nanny and her dolls. She would line up her dolls at her child size table, and with the help of Sara, the nanny, tea and cookies would be served to each of her friends.
When Betty grew up, she took with her memories of her childhood. Loneliness was her biggest shadow, and she vowed she would do her best to never see a sad face again. She worked for her parents in the office, that was in one of the tallest buildings down town.
She made a few close friends, and dated some, but never found the perfect mate, so marriage never entered her life. She saved money, but never invested. She followed the rules of her parent’s home, until one day she was sick at heart of the stuffiness, and broke a way. She found a flat, and then visited second-hand stores, filling her apartment with golden treasures.
Eventually she retired from the family business and with her tidy savings in the local bank, she went to work for a small business, where the goal was to help those in need. It was one of the stores she had went to when she was looking for furniture. Here she worked behind the counter.
She helped customers fill out paper work. She made calls to help some to retain heat during the cold winter months. She partook in putting meals together, and making sure that no one left the front door empty-handed.
Betty did this kind of work for many years. As she went home from work she would be tired, but it was a good tired. She loved her home, but walking into quietness, sometimes would make her sad. She decided to visit an animal shelter, and this is where she acquired her two best friends.
Each night she would turn the key in her door, and when it was opened, there would be Frankie and Johnnie, with tails wagging. She was always welcomed with love, and loyalty. She would go to the cupboards, and get two cans of dog food out and feed them first, before she thought about her own needs.
After the dogs finished eating, they would all sit on the couch, she would pet and talk to them, and they in turn would give her kisses and love. Betty felt that there was nothing else in her life that she could possibly need.
As years passed, Betty’s body began to tire out. Arthritis had set in and walking was more difficult. At the age of 82, she retired from her job, and spent most of her time with her dogs, but something was missing. She did not feel as if she was doing enough to help others. She needed more out of her life.
This is when she bumped into the homeless shelters and soup kitchens. There was no money to be made, but she didn’t care. What she received from this job was far more valuable than any dollar. Sometimes she took scraps home to her two dogs. These treats she provided, also gave her more love than she could ever want for.
Betty lived like this for many more years, until one time as she walked in her front door, she walked into silence. Frankie had went to sleep for ever on her side of the bed on the floor, and she found Johnnie sitting quietly near by.
This saddened Betty so much, she sat on her bed and cried for the loss of her good friend. She called the maintenance man and asked for his help in taking care of the dog’s body. It was less than two weeks later, that Johnnie died of loneliness for his friend.
Betty found herself alone. She would walk with her cane over to the living room window, and look out over the city, seeing life but no living, lights with no glow. She was growing very weak herself, and knew that her own time was coming to an end, and yet she knew that she had lived the best life and had helped so many.
She turned from the window, and walked to the kitchen, and taking two cans of dog food out of the cabinet, set them down, but never opened them. Tears slid down her face as she realized this habit could be no more, and placed the two cans back on the shelf.
She was not hungry, and she went into her bathroom, and washing her face and brushing her hair, she then went to her bedroom, and slipping into bed, she pulled her worn blankets up around her face, and thinking about Frankie and Johnnie, she went to sleep, never to wake again.
Her death was discovered by the postal man. He knocked on her door out of habit for many years. He would hand her mail to her, and she would stand and chat with him a few moments, brightening his day, but today no one answered the door.
The next days paper showed the following information. Betty, 92 years old, passed a way in her sleep peacefully. She had never married, but had adopted two dogs that were her children and the joy of her life. She dedicated her life to helping the less fortunate. Everyone knew her name and her heart. She never met a stranger. Betty’s parents had died many years earlier. There were no brothers or sisters. Betty had an estimated one million dollars, which has been left to the city to be spent on building new homeless shelters for people and animals. Betty will be missed by many. Rest in peace my friend.