Poverty
Yesterday, a woman I met pulled me into her world of poverty. She had recently moved to the city to escape her abusive husband who would lock her in their place of business at night. She hitched a ride, pawned her wedding ring for $10, and moved in with her sister’s family. The determined woman borrowed her sister’s run-down car and set off in a strange city to find a job. Unfortunately, one of the car’s slick tires died, stranding the woman miles from her sister’s home with no spare. She wandered through a maze of run-down neighborhoods in 100 degree heat until she found me, a soul willing to help.
I’ve been thinking about that encounter since it happened aware that I can not fathom what it means to live in poverty–to have no place to go, to have so little money that I have to pawn my wedding ring, and to have to beg strangers for $12 to buy a used bald tire for a borrowed car. Yet this woman continued to find a way, to press on, and to hope. She asked me to pray for her. I held her leathery, labor-worn hands, and prayed she might have relief from her suffering.
How does one begin to pray about poverty? What do I even know of poverty? Snapshots of experience, like my encounter with this brave woman, only give me fleeting images of what it’s really like for millions of people everyday.
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You earned a jewel in your crown that day and placed a smile of the face of Our Father!!!!