I first met her when our Mobile Loaves and Fishes truck stopped at a spot near Austin's Barton Springs, where many people who were unhoused lived. We were on our Westlake Rotary Club’s monthly run to distribute sandwiches, water, fruit, snacks, and clothing.
She was a beautiful young woman of color with what looked like a dead fox draped around her neck, but it was actually an old, blind dog, hanging on for dear life. I helped her find toiletry items, socks, and T-shirts. It was fun watching her pick the right color and size of shirt. I only wish I had packed more options in the truck for her before we left the church campus that day.
She was upbeat and appeared joyful as she sorted through the items and later chose the sandwiches, fruit, and snacks she needed for that day's food. I was drawn to her, not only because of her bubbly personality, but I also kept wondering about the challenges she faced daily. I was more curious than feeling pity for her because I instinctively knew that interacting with her would be a lesson.
As she selected her food items, her precious dog waited on the ground patiently for her, although he trembled as if he were scared. I’m sure being surrounded by many people waiting for food and not being able to see was indeed frightening for the poor creature.
I helped her fill her container with fresh water and added ice cubes. It was hot and humid, which likely contributed to the suffering of many people and animals living outside. I asked her how she fared during the recent several days of unending rain. She answered with a laugh and said, “Oh, we found a dugout in a baseball field and sheltered there. It was fun!”
As she walked away, I told her to “be sure and take care of your baby.” She immediately turned back and replied while holding her small stomach, “How did you know?” I responded, “I didn’t. I was referring to your precious pup, but that goes for your baby, too!”
I asked her if she was being taken care of. She answered with a smile, “Oh, yes, for the most part. I’m good!”
Sometimes, we find connections with people we never dreamed we’d cross paths with when we open 1 ourselves to the possibility. She taught me about resilience in the worst of times, and I wanted her to know that I saw her and cared.
I’m not a praying person, but I’m praying for her health and safety, and that of her yet-to-be-born baby. I’ll also say a few prayers for her little dog. She’s going to make an outstanding mother, as evidenced by her love for her dog. And next time, if I'm lucky enough to encounter her, I’m going to be prepared with a list of resources for a young, unhoused pregnant woman.
We often take our privileged lives for granted. I haven’t stopped thinking about what she must face daily, yet she has the courage and fortitude to meet it with optimism. She’s the very definition of grace. I respect her tremendously.
I don’t believe she or anyone else chooses to be unhoused. Life sometimes gets out of hand through the loss of a job, addiction, mental illness, or due to circumstances we don’t know. One thing I’m sure of, though: There, but for the grace of God, go I.