When we rolled into Houston for spring break, it was early in the morning. After settling everyone at Melanie's apartment, dad and I checked into the hotel nearby to get some rest. The next day was St. Patricks day and everyone was buzzing outside the hotel getting ready for the big parade. After a good nights sleep, I woke up early the next day and went outside to see what was going on. I sat quietly on a bench outside the hotel watching people. I was alone on the bench...until Faye Wilson walked by.
I could tell he was a homeless man by his backpack. He came over to the ashcan looking for cigarette butts that were still smokable. As he picked at the butts, he found a few with a couple of puffs left. As he plopped down on the ground, he looked straight at me and blurted with a big smile, "Can I tell you something?"
I said, "Sure", curious about what he was going to say.
He said, " I am HIV positive in the advanced stage. I am homeless and I've been homeless for several years. I am looking to get a spot at the HIV clinic on 5th and Main. If I can get in, I will have a bed and bus card. I will also get to have a shower. They will assign me a case worker to help me get my medications. I have to prepay $7.00 for a week stay. So far, I only have a dollar."
I did not have my purse with me, so it was not awkward to tell him I had nothing to give him right away. It also allowed me some time to talk to him and hear his story. I wanted to know more.
I asked him how he contracted AIDS. He told me very honestly that he was a lost soul in the 1990's. He said he did everything wrong. He was promiscuous and I suspect he was a drug user. He told me he found out his HIV status when he was at a clinic giving plasma for cash...perhaps to fuel a drug habit. The doctor came in with a folder and shut the door. He knew right away it was bad news. He left the office and got stoned out of his mind. His world came crashing down. He was in his mid twenties- the prime of his life. He talked about how he handled things back then and how life is so different for him now. Being homeless gives a person plenty of time to pray and think about God. He and Jesus are best friends. He talked about his faith and had wisdom about scripture. He knew the bible well and understood it's message. He spoke about forgiveness and his personal journey of healing.
He told me about life as a homeless person. I asked him where he goes to shower and about the challenges of being homeless. I really wanted to know where he used the restroom. He smiled at me and said, "When I first became homeless, I had to get used to people treating me like a piece of trash...they would shoo me away and look disgusted when they saw me. At first, it made me angry. My pride made me an angry man. Now I feel sorry for those people and I pray for them. I am not angry anymore." I imagined how many times I've looked away from a homeless person. He said, "I know I am a human being and a cherished son of God. God gave me a lot of gifts and one of those gifts is bravery and courage. I just walk right in a shop and use the rest room if I have to. If they turn me away, I go to the next one. My homeless friends say "Faye, you can't go in there...and I just say -I am not afraid. All they can do is tell me no." He told me that you get pretty resourceful when you have to and he prays to God for help everyday. He told me he simply prays, "Lord, please put the right people in my path today." His openness and his general happiness told me he had peace with himself, with God and with his life. He didn't sound corny or crazy. He was very real.
He said "you know what I really want to get away from?" I thought of a bazillion scary things he might want to get away from. But I said,"No, what?" Faye said, "the ducks." The ducks really were bothersome when he tried to sleep under the bridge near the viaduct. He said they just poop everywhere and they really stink. They were pretty noisy too. We both laughed hard at that. I imagined trying to sleep with ducks quacking around in my bedroom.
I continued to ask questions about his family. He told me how many brothers and sisters he had. He told me that he was close to his mother but when he contracted AIDS, his family started acting different toward him. They were afraid of getting AIDS too and he felt it was better if he just left. He told me he used to be in the culinary business and with his status he can no longer work around food and sharp knives. He missed earning a living but with his medical condition he couldn't find steady work. I didn't ask much more about that.
I asked about his father. He said he knew who he was but he never "knew" him. When he said this, he looked away as if he was imagining his father in his mind. His eyes filled with tears. I asked him if that bothered him- never knowing his own father. He said, "Yes- I don't think about him often but when I do, I wish he could have known me. I would have like to have known him too. I am 46 years old and I've only seen my father twice." I suspect his abandonment was a source of emptiness his whole life, even if it was buried down deep. He smiled really big as if he knew he had to let it go.
I asked him how he stayed so positive. I wanted to know if it was hard to fight the demons of desperation and survival. He just leaned back and smiled. "I walk around with grace on one shoulder and mercy on the other." I smiled right back at him. What a great formula! I told him, "Even though you are homeless, you have a peace in your heart that money can not buy. You have what many rich men will never know." We both smiled and knew that was true.
Just then a very large man came up to us from the hotel. He towered down at Faye and said, "I'm sorry but you are going to have to leave the premises. We do not allow you to talk to our guests. You have to leave now." He hovered about Faye like he was the piece of trash he described. It was extremely awkward and I felt hot inside. I felt bad that Faye dealt with this daily...being unwanted and being treated less than human. I was keenly aware of his humiliation more than ever. I have never known it myself but this experience gave me a good taste. I didn't like it at all.
I said, "It's OK. He's not bothering me, I want to talk to him." The security gaurd looked at me for a long time. He didn't want to offend one of his customers but he really wanted Faye to leave. I don't think the guard could figure out what to do, so he left quietly.
Our conversation lasted two hours. When I had to leave, I told Faye to wait across the street at the catholic church. I didn't want him to be harassed by the security gaurd while I went inside to get him some food and 3 weeks pay for the clinic. I scooped up the largest breakfast buffet I could squeeze into one "to go" box and pulled 21.00 out of my wallet from up in my room. He looked like the happiest person I had ever seen when I handed him the big bag of food. I knew it would last him for days. I don't know if he ever used the money for the clinic but I suspect he was telling me the truth. There was something special about him. He loved the Lord and sang several songs for me. He was a good singer and sang with such joy. I gave him a big hug and said goodbye. He apologized for smelling bad but I didn't notice any odor. As I left, he said "We may not ever see each other again on earth, but I will be looking for you in heaven." I smiled and felt goosebumps rise up on my neck. He spoke what I had been thinking as I rode down the elevator. I imagined Faye clothed like a king and draped in jewels. He would have a very special place in heaven, perhaps at the right hand of the Father. After all, his name means "Faith."
Love,
MOM
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