Her Name is Natalie...

For the past year I've driven by a bus stop, directly outside Pearl Harbor, and noticed a homeless woman. If you frequent the area you'd know who I'm talking about. She carries a handwritten sign, proclaiming some type of injustice she's witnessed, she wears a hat claiming she worked for the Postal Service. Like most homeless people she has several bags, and she can occasionally be seen yelling or talking incessantly.

Acting on impulse, a rarity for me, I quickly changed lanes and made a left where I should have gone straight. Determined but scared I parked my car on the side of the road and approached the woman I've wondered about for so long. She immediately took her defensive stance and I expressed my intentions...

"I brought you dinner..." Mc Donalds in hand.

"I'm a vegetarian" she says non-chalantly. (Oh.)
"Well, will you at least like the fries?" (Please!)

"I'm tired of fries." (Of course you are!)

I try for a third time... "Would you like the coke at least?"

"I don't drink soda"

I'm 0 for THREE!! Who knew!

I turn to leave, completely defeated and feeling quite stupid. She quickly asks my name, tells me hers... then she starts a parade of senseless statements... None of which she wants a reply...none of which give me an easy exit. Not wanting to be rude or insensitive I listen, nod, and try to give her every indication that I really do care. The few words that I did get out, played back in my head and sounded like something my parents would say. I've truly grown up.

Our conversation lasted less then ten minutes... In those ten minutes I realized that this woman, whom I guessed was in her mid 50's, has to be closer to mid 30's, early 40's. She has dirty blond hair that would probably be very pretty had it been washed and not tucked under her dirty hat. She wore foundation, and it was well applied, to cover even her neck. She seemed educated, and I noticed a slight accent... she clearly wasn't born and reared here. Where was she from? How did she get here? Why is this bus stop her home? Where is her family?

Finally I tell her goodbye, tell her to take care, and let her know I'll pray for her. I don't feel defeated and I don't regret making that left. I now know her name, I've seen her face to face and I've offered her genuine kindness.

I doubt she'll remember my name, or even our meeting... but I'll remember hers and the courage it took for me to come to know it.