Two Towels and a $10 Bill

Every spring I’m reminded of 2011, when my daughters and I spent a week in a homeless shelter. My experiences that week could fill a book, but I’ll share just one here.

From 8 a.m. to 3 p.m. each day the shelter was closed. We had to leave after breakfast and find somewhere else to be during the day.

The only places to go where it was reasonable to spend several hours at a time were a large retail store, which was 2 miles away in one direction, and the library and a park, which were 2 miles away in the other direction. Either choice was a 4-mile walk round trip.

More than once when we left in the morning, it was raining. On one such day, the rain was particularly heavy, and I knew walking 2 miles in it wouldn’t be a good idea. I had a little bit of money, so we went to a small diner. My hope was that by the time we finished eating something, the rain might have stopped or at least slowed down.

When we got there, I took my time. I looked at the menu for a long while, because I didn’t know when the rain was going to stop. I ended up ordering the grilled chicken: a breast, a thigh and a leg with two vegetable sides for about $8. While I wasn’t excited about spending the little money I had, I was glad knowing the meal would be big enough for the three of us to share.

When the food came, I took my time. I don’t think I’ve ever cut food into bites so slowly. I took my time feeding it to my children. I’d give a single bite and then wait a minute or so before giving another. How they managed to be so patient that day at only 1 and 3 years old I might never understand.

Meanwhile I kept looking out the window. The rain continued to pour. The skies were gray. My life felt gray.

Our clothes were still wet as we ate.

Two towels

Partway through our meal, a woman came up to me. She told me she had two towels in her trunk, and she asked if I would like to have them for my children. I don’t remember exactly what I said, but she told me she would be right back.

My favorite verse is James 1:2: “Count it all joy when you fall into various trials.” Sometimes it is harder to count the joy than others, but it is always there. I saw her go to her car and look in her trunk briefly as the rain poured down, but then she got in her car and drove away. I assumed she’d realized she didn’t have the towels after all and was perhaps too embarrassed to let me know.

I shrugged it off and continued dividing the meal between us. I tried to keep my children entertained between bites so the meal could last as long as possible. I continued looking out the window, hoping the rain might stop.

A little while later, the woman came back. She had gone to a store and bought two new towels. She gave them to me, and I thanked her. Acacia wrapped up in one, and Jasmine wrapped up in the other.

I still have those towels. I doubt I’ll ever get rid of them.

A $10 bill

A short while later, we were almost finished eating. A man approached and told me he wanted to pay for our meal. He put $10 on the table and left.

I don’t remember if the rain had stopped or exactly what we did for the rest of that day. It would be poetic to say the sun came out and a rainbow painted the sky, but I honestly don’t remember. What I do remember is how it felt to be so blessed. I don’t think I’ve ever been so thankful for two towels and a $10 bill as I was on that day.

Altogether my children and I spent over 10 weeks in various states of homelessness. We lived in three different shelters. We lived in the back of a hair salon. We slept in spare rooms at churches. We slept on floors. We slept on beds. We were helped by strangers. We were looked down on by strangers.

It was confusing. It was scary. It was upsetting.

Lessons worth keeping

But if I could go back in time and erase those experiences, I wouldn’t. I learned so much, and I wouldn’t want to lose those lessons.

It helped me see how much I’d taken things for granted. It helped me see that having nothing isn’t really something to be afraid of. It helped me develop more compassion for others. It helped me learn gratefulness. It helped me see that, no matter what, God is there, watching me, helping me.

I’ve faced a lot of difficult times, but I’m still here. Even when I had “nothing,” I still had enough. I remind myself of this when trials come in life now.

My favorite verse is James 1:2: “Count it all joy when you fall into various trials.” Sometimes it is harder to count the joy than others, but it is always there. Sometimes I don’t find it until long after the trial has passed. Other times I can see it in the midst of the trial.

There is joy in the lessons we learn from every trial. And that is one fact of many which enables me to keep pushing forward, no matter how tough life gets. Even when I can’t see the joy, I have faith that it’s there.

I know I’m not the only one who has faced difficult times in life. But I hope we can all remember that no matter how dark things seem, and even if we can’t see it yet, there are reasons for joy in every trial.