Lilly Hulsing's Blog
Urban Solitude Experience / 11.18.08, 12:18 PM
Hey. Excuse me sir, do you have any change? Hello? Can you hear me? Am I too quiet? Am I suddenly invisible? Sitting on the steps of the subway station I and my friend watch as people walk by, refusing to look at us for more than a moment, fearing they’ll catch the disease we seem to have caught, the homelessness. Now I’m not saying that all people were bad; some were on their phones, not noticing us as they walked by, finishing their coffee and morning business call before work; some were listening to music, heading off to their morning jog across town. For the most part, however, we were truly a nuisance. Its almost pathetic how people treat other people, assuming that they’re a drug addicted drunk and refusing to share wealth in the sense of a few coins.
Its sad that one of the first people to see us was a guy who’d been hurt badly in a fight. He came stumbling over asking for a cigarette. We told him we had none and he sat down on the stairs a few feet away from us. We wanted to talk to him but we didn’t know what to say so we decided silence was best. After a few moments I saw a guy- young looking, but in a business suit- heading up from the subway, getting out a pack to have a smoke before going where ever he was going that required him to wear the suit. I looked over at the hurt boy, he couldn’t have been any older than 20 or so, next to us and got up, headed over to the guy with the cigarettes and asked for one. He asked me if I was homeless and I looked at him, nodding I said, “for now”. He had this look on his face like he wanted so badly to say something,- maybe something profound that could turn my life around, like one deep ancient saying that would save me from whatever was happening, or maybe he wanted to get mad at me, blaming my situation on my own addictions, but he didn’t, he handed me a cigarette and went on his way. I passed it off to the guy who was in need of something so much stronger and asked him why his hand was wrapped up. He told us about the fight and the broken bones and the pain relievers his mom was supposed to send him from North Carolina. That’s when some other guy came up and sat down, asking me if I smoked he pulled out a cigarette, preparing to join the other guy. I kindly said no thank you and he looked at me for a bit, somewhat surprised. He asked my friend, she kindly said no as well. He seemed almost stunned for just a second then he put it away. I told him he could smoke but that I wasn’t going to and he said that he could respect that and not smoke until we had left. I thanked him. He talked to us for a while, telling us how he was homeless and has been for quite some time. We told him where we’re from originally and went on to tell him the general area we stay in now. I think its crazy how the only two people to give us more than passing glances were homeless and hurt. The guy with the broken hand left us to see if he could get some coffee in the Dunkin’ Donuts next to us. Sam, the homeless man with the cigarette, left us to continue his journey down the subway station buy only after giving us a dollar fifty of his two dollars, over half of what he had. We decided we should buy the boy a donut with it so we asked him what kind he wanted. After asking us if we were sure a few times he finally told us and we got him a chocolate glazed donut with sprinkles on top. We set it on his table and told him to have a good day as we walked away. I hope he got those pain relievers he was waiting .. walking down to Rittenhouse Square we met a girl, petite with short greying hair, she was almost swallowed up in her huge camo coat. Sitting down on the bench next to ours she looked over. “Hey….” she says quietly. We return the gesture with a hey of our own. “Do you have a few dollars, I need a few dollars, do you have any money?” We explain to her that we’re in the same boat and wish her well. She walks away telling us how she’s got to go now but she’d be back. We never expected another appearance from her. After a while longer with no luck we decided feeding the birds would be a better way to spend our time. Aiming for the “St. Francis” sort of look we grabbed a bag of bread from a trash can and sat on the edge of a fountain. The man in the cowboy hat with the bulldog clearly doesn’t like St. Francis because he made us leave saying that he would have us arrested or fined heavily if we didn’t stop.
We wandered our way up to JFK Plaza, better known as “Love Park”, where we figured we’d give pan handling one more shot. At first we sat on a bench with our little plastic bowl out in front of us, looking at people as they rushed by, holding their purses and children’s hands, seeming to fear that we may take either should they let go for even just a moment. My friend suggested that maybe we’d have better luck if we split up so we did. I went across the park to some steps after I found an old Starbucks cup in the trash can and tried my luck. Something strange happened to me, I got some change. A man was walking by with his son, I looked over at them as they approached me and I could see the son ask his father something and his father took his hand.. I thought, “oh great, once again, ignored and dangerous” but I said hello and the dad said hi as they passed me. After they got just a step away I asked if they had any change they could spare. At first they kept walking and I was prepared to let them go but then they stopped. I don’t know if the boy said something that triggered this, or if it was the man’s own conscience, but he dug around in his pocket and handed the contents to his little boy. Running towards me he smiled. When he dropped the change into my cup I could feel a significant increase in its weight. I thanked him as he ran back to his dad. He said, “you’re welcome” and they walked away, smiling at one another. $1.03 I counted out into my hand. It gave me hope knowing that somewhere out there there are parents who are teaching their children love. It warmed my heart.
It wasn’t long after that that some punk-looking kids in their tight pants with their skateboards came rolling into the park. After skating around a bit and deciding it was too wet they started walking towards that shopping complex down the street, passing me on their way. I said hi and asked them for change. Two of the three walked past me without so much of a hello but the third one, the smallest with the tightest pants, stopped. He said, “you know what, I do have some change” and he dug around in his back pocket until he found some. He dropped 23 cents into my cup and I thanked him. He walked away, rejoining his friends who had stopped with annoyance waiting on him. Is it possible that even still today love can win over all else?
After more rejection my friend and I rejoined to head down towards the library and St. Peter’s and Paul’s Catholic Church. We got there just in time because there was someone handing out Chinese food to the homeless. We joined the line as it began to rain. A man in front of me had a little yellow umbrella. He turned to me, saying, “you’re going to get rained on.” I told him I knew that but that it would be ok. He insisted that I take his umbrella despite the fact that he would then get wet. I tried to tell him how he’d get rained on and I didn’t mind getting wet but he told me he’d just put up the hood on his jacket. I took the umbrella as they called for the women to come up front. He told me he’d get the umbrella later and to take it with me so I did. I got my plate of food and a cup of lemonade and found a place to sit under a small overhang on some front steps of a public building. That’s when we met Eddy. He was on the inside of the fence of this public building, standing on the front step near the door, avoiding the rain, but someone came out and made him leave so he joined us on the outside of the fence, sitting down on the steps. He asked me and my friend our names and where we came from. He started telling us all the places that give out food, blankets, clothes, and places to sleep and what time to be there. He wanted to help us, it was greatly appreciated. We then crossed the road to this little open space where some homeless were standing in the grass. We started talking to them.
That’s when we met Dizzy. He’s from Texas, 100% Mexican as he puts it. He speaks fluent Spanish and is waiting on his birth certificate so that he can get a job and a place to stay. He left Texas because he heard there were jobs in New Orleans but there wasn’t one for him. One day when he was hanging out in the bus station some woman gave him a bus ticket so he got on a bus and it brought him here to Philly. He says he figures God wants him here since it was such a random turn of events. He’s been on the streets of Philadelphia for 5 weeks now and he’s met up with a lawyer who does advocacy for the homeless and he says it’ll be about 3 more weeks until his birth certificate comes in and he can start applying places. His ultimate goal is a wife and kids, the American dream. He and I and my friend talked for a long time until she had to go meet up with another friend she had told she’d meet at noon and was late for. Dizzy and I headed down to Rittenhouse Square but stopped at Love Park when I saw a few of my friends with a guy named Alan.
Alan calls himself the Love Park Photographer, offering to take group pictures of anyone whose standing anywhere near the Love monument. He has a little Bible a catholic man gave him once. He keeps it on the concrete wall beside where he sits. Promising a return I walked off towards City Hall where someone told me he had some money if I’d follow him, needless to say, I wasn’t going to. Just as I was beginning to explain how I’d rather just not have the money than do that an older man came walking over and looked me in the eyes, asking me if I wanted some coffee. In an attempt to get away from the other guy I agreed. We walked to McDonalds where he bought me a coffee and explained to me that he’s lived here on the streets for a long time and that it was no place for me. I could do so much better he told me. I asked him where he was from and made small talk for a while. Then I thanked him for the coffee and told him to have a great day. We went our separate ways.
I found a man who wanted coffee and gave him the small bit of change I had made while pan handling. He went into the store next to him and bought some coffee. He came out and sat down next to me, drinking coffee he began to yell about God and Africa and the Bible and where it takes place and all sorts of other things. I was very confused. After a while of mass confusion I made it back to Rittenhouse Square and saw the girl with the camo jacket again. I said hello but she didn’t seem too excited to talk. She seemed sort of out in her own world. I headed back to Love Park where I sat down on a bench. Alan was still there so I watched him excitedly work for a while. He is such a happy worker, telling his subjects to take specific poses and step closer towards him or back away just a bit. He loves his job, self titled as a photographer. I looked over at him once when I was walking around the park and there were no pictures to be taken so he was sitting there on that wall with that little book open and in his hands, reading it in his spare time.
Later on another man came and joined him, he introduced us to this man as his spiritual brother, his “brother in Christ.” Alan was more biblically knowledgeable than almost anyone I’ve ever known. He talked about Jesus and the apostles and who wrote what part of the bible. He inspires me, helping me want to learn more. Hardly have I ever seen anyone be so in love with God. I cannot remember the last time I saw someone just sitting, reading their Bible out at the park in between tasks.
We said goodbye and all of the Mission Year group started walking away, up to the old office building. Its now Eastern University offices but they let us use them for dinner. We sat and told stories of the day and what had happened. We got assigned groups randomly by drawing from a hat. There was North America, Europe, Latin America, Africa, Asia, and Desolate. What we drew decided what group we were in and how much we would eat. I got Desolate so I didn’t get food. North America got an entire pie, sparkling grape juice, two slabs of ribs, fries, salad, etc. at a table all to himself complete with a table cloth and all. Europe got entire pizzas to themselves and 2 litter bottles of soda and an entire package of Oreos each. Sitting at a long table they all ate together. Latin America got rice and beans. They sat on the floor with plates and silverware. Africa and Asia each got half a cup of rice on newspaper on the floor. I got nothing, sitting alone on the floor. All of this was based on the stats of how much of the population belongs to each group and how much food they consume on average. After North America decided he was done eating, he didn’t eat much before he decided, Caz and Chris (the people in charge of all this) threw away all of everyone’s the food. We then talked about how it felt to eat when we knew others had less or not eat when we knew others were. After talking for a while Chris got the trash bags, set them on the floor and told us we could eat. We did. We all shared pizza and fries and cherry pie and soda and ribs and anything else we could find. Sitting on the floor, picking food out of trash bags I realized that its not what you do or where you go or how much you have, its the company you keep. Nothing else matters but your love. As I think back on the people who gave and the people who judged I can’t help but dwell on the beauty of the willing, the compassion of the homeless, and it bothers me that the most generous people I’ve ever met are the ones with nothing physical to give. Why is it that we as people in general, myself included, get so wrapped up in our day to day survival and well-being that we forget to love? Of all the commandments Jesus said “love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the greatest and most important commandment. The second is like it: Love your neighbor as yourself. All the Law and Prophets depend on these two commandments.” Why do we walk by people and not even look at them? Why would we not respond when spoken to? Why would we cross the street or leave the park to avoid walking past a specific person? Is everyone not created in God’s image equally? We get so consumed with our lives and our jobs and our bank accounts that we cannot spare a few coins to help another in need. Did Jesus not say, “I assure you, it will be hard for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven! Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.” Why, then, are we all so worried about it? Will God not supply what we need? “Love your neighbor as yourself.”
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You’re such a great writer, Lilly. I loved reading what you experienced and learned, and I hope we all can remember how much of an impact that day had on us. I love you!!! Keep writing, keep loving!!!
By Tera, your room-mate!!! / Nov 19, 12:44 PM / #
Hey! I read your story and I have to say it’s good. But it’s also too similar to a book I just read, perhaps you’ve read it. “Under the Overpass” by Mike Yankowski. If you haven’t, I totally suggest you pick it up!! Anyways..Have a great day and keep up the writing! In HIS love,
Kristy
By Kristy / Nov 21, 01:10 AM / #