She grew up on the streets, dependent on the kindness of strangers that she called “strangels.” Now it’s her turn to give.
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(Audio below – read by the author for The Power Peach Project)
“If you wait until you can do everything for everybody, instead of something for somebody, you end up doing nothing for nobody.”
These words of wisdom came from an Unnamed Homeless Man who was the only person to offer his coat to a child sleeping on the street, inside of a garbage bag, wearing a ripped tee shirt, in sub zero temperatures.
The child was a part of a social experiment. He was laid out in the cold for two hours while hundreds of passers-by looked right at him and then decided to turn a blind eye.
I am alive today because of the kindness of many strangers. I like to call them “Strangels.”
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I could make an epic commentary taking varying perspectives on this, but all I want to share is this little-known, and perhaps less socially important, fact about Jasmine — that’d be me.
I was a homeless child.
I slept on the streets, although since I was living in Toronto Canada, I much preferred the streetcars because they were warm and had long routes before the end of their line.
There is a quote from the movie, A Streetcar Named Desire (appropriate, yes?) in which Blanche DuBois says, “I have always depended on the kindness of strangers.”
I am alive today because of the kindness of many strangers. I like to call them “Strangels.” They literally plucked me up and out of wherever they happened to find me, and offered me shelter in their homes, food, a bathroom with toilet paper, a shower, shampoo and soap, fresh clothes and a soft, warm, safe place to sleep. Sometimes they gave me money before sending me on my way the next day or as much as a month later.
While I was a scared little girl at the time, I can say that I was, for the most part, honouring and appreciative of the hearts that helped me. But, there were a few moments in which I acted in an untrustworthy way. You know, stupid survival stuff like stealing quarters from my host’s change bowl, or swiping a pair of boots from the hallway of the tenants who lived in the apartment below on my way out the door forever and without saying good-bye.
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There was the time, many years later, when I was all grown up and doing really well for myself that I ran into one of my Angelic helpers in line at a restaurant while we both waited for a table.
We looked at each other.
All I heard when I strutted by with my eyes turned blind, were these words, “I guess she’s too good for us.”
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He was dressed like the low-income, just shy of homeless man that he was. This toothless man had let me sleep on a cot in his teensy apartment and made me bacon, eggs, and coffee every morning for weeks. He was generous beyond measure while living on a budget derived from welfare and odd jobs.
As he smiled at me with a fond recognition I recoiled.
The last thing I wanted was to be associated with the likes of him. Especially not in front of the man who was my dinner companion that evening. I prayed that I would be quickly seated, and I was.
I walked by him and his equally shabby friends, of which I knew one, making sure that my body stood between “them” and “us.”
All I heard when I strutted by with my eyes turned blind, were these words, “I guess she’s too good for us.” Those words rang in my ears. For years. Maybe decades. They rang until I answered their call and opened my eyes to my own shame.
To Red, Thank you for feeding me and taking care of me when no one else would.
To Mr. Street Car Driver, Thanks for letting me ride around and around on the back bench of your safe carriage, and for pretending to believe my lies while you stopped your heavenly chariot so that I could make fake phone calls, from a frozen phone booth, to a brother I never had, about picking up a key, to a home that didn’t exist.
To the plethora of other “Strangers” who gave me the gift of survival so that I could later thrive, I offer my deepest respect, honor and love to you.
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To the woman who took me off of that streetcar and told me that she knew I had no brother but that she “got it” because she “lived it,” Thank you. I know you wanted to help me more, but I overheard what your sister said about me, so I left before you awoke. You were one of the most influential angels in my life because you were the first. We always remember our first.
To the plethora of other “Strangers” who gave me the gift of survival so that I could later thrive, I offer my deepest respect, honor and love to you.
Know this. My eyes are no longer blind. They are wide open and they shine with the understanding and compassion that each of you taught me. Which, by the way, I pass along every time I am called to do so.
Oh and hats off and thank you to all of you. We all have so much to give.
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Photo: Flickr/Evan Bench
My life has certainly overflowed with blessings in disguise Monique, and the more I open my self the more apparent they become.
Best wishes to you and here’s to a beautiful Canadian spring!
My heart aches for what you had to go through growing up. Thank you for sharing Jasmine!
This is so, so good.
Every massive blessing upon you. 🙂
Jacob
Thank-you for lighting the way so brilliantly, Jacob.
Warm hugs.