Marie
lives in a tent in the woods across the street from me.
We met when she
was "borrowing" a few watts to charge up her cellphone by way
of an outlet on my garage. That was a few weeks ago. Since then Marie and Guzman come and go, mostly unseen, to the plug or the hose with my
blessing.
Early today there was a loud and relentless knock at my door.
(Early even for me). I opened the door in my nightgown
with my hair....never mind how the hair looked...and there she was. "Hi! Remember
me your neighbor from across the street?" She had an issue about
something in the neighborhood and she just knew I would want to hear
about it.
All that aside, what struck me was that Marie considered
herself to be my neighbor and considered I was hers. "Hey, you in the
tree. Yeah you. Better get down. I'm showing up at your house today for
dinner." (Jesus to Zacchaeus).
Here all along I had been thinking
"homeless" and Marie was thinking "neighbor." Bless me Father for I have
sinned...
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Yep - it is alllll just a matter of perspective, isn't it? And mine is usually cockeyed. :) Thanks for the smile.
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