Forgotten: Seventeen and Homeless (25 page)

On Friday, Pastor Roland is serving as the on-site counselor at the mission, and I actually made an appointment with him. I have no idea how or if he can help me, but I'm curious about his offer. Was it just empty words? When I walk into his office, he just smiles at me and introduces himself. When I tell him we've already met, he seems confused. Then he looks down at his appointment book. "Adele?" He stands, coming over to look more closely at me. "Is that really you?"

My hand instinctively goes to my face, which is broken out in an ugly rash. I'm not sure what it's from, but I'm guessing it might be the pillow I've been using. Who knows how many heads have slept on it already? My long hair is pulled back in a greasy ponytail. And my raggedy frumpy clothes are the ones I used to wear only while working at River Woods. I know I look terrible, but I don't really care about things like appearances anymore. Why should I?

"Sit down," he says gently, pulling out the chair for me like I'm a fine lady. "Tell me what's going on.,,

And because he already knows part of my story, I pour out the second half of my sad, twisted tale. Then I wait for his reaction. But he's just sitting there with his hands folded and a quiet expression on his face, almost as if he's waiting for something.

"And I even visited your church."

"Was that you in the back last Sunday?" His brow creases with concern. "I noticed a stranger, but then she ... you left."

"Yeah, I didn't really see the point."

"The point?"

"Of being there. I mean, what you were saying sounded nice, but it was a little unreal and out of touch."

"Unreal and out of touch?"

"You know, about how kindness, love, generosity-all that goodness changing the world."

He just nods.

"I mean, I'm sure those qualities exist for some people." I attempt a feeble laugh. "Probably the kind of people who don't really need anything in the first place. I'm sure that people with money and friends and homes - they're probably surrounded by love, kindness, and generosity."

"But not you?"

I just shake my head and hope I can keep from crying. I am so sick of tears.

"Can I ask you a question, Adele?"

I shrug. "Sure. Go for it."

"When life was going better for you, when you had more money and a place to live and wealthy friends . . . were you happy?"

"Happy?" I try to wrap my mind around this.

He points to his chest now. "You know, deep inside of you, were you happy, content, fulfilled? Did having those things bring you a sense of happiness?"

"I'm sure I was a lot happier than I am now."

He nods. "But try to remember, did you have a sense of peace inside of you?"

I think about this, then shake my head. "No, I don't think I've ever had a sense of peace inside of me. I've spent most of my life just waiting for the other shoe to fall. Like even if life is good for a while, it won't last. It never does."

He points to one side of the desk. "What if I put a big pile of hundred-dollar bills right here?" Now he points to his Bible. "And what if this represented God?"

I frown. "Huh?"

"And what if I told you to choose one of these, and it would be entirely yours. Which would you choose?"

I try to imagine a really big stack of hundred-dollar bills it would probably be worth thousands. I know what I could do with money like that: rent an apartment, get some food and some clothes, go back to school. I'm pretty sure I'd choose the cash, but I have a feeling this is a trick question. "Well, because my biggest problem seems to be poverty, and because I don't even know God and I doubt that he cares much about me anyway, I'd probably go with the money."

He nods. "Yes, that's what I thought. But what if I told you God is worth more than all the money in that pile, and more than all the money in the world? And what if I told you that God can not only provide for you, but he can give you something money can never buy?"

"You mean happiness?"

"Yes . . . and a lot more. If you truly believed that, would you still choose the money?"

I think hard about this. "If what you're saying is true ... if God really could provide all that I need and give me happiness too ... well, I'd be a fool to choose the money. It would run out in time anyway."

"Or be stolen like the cash in your flashlight?"

I nod. "Yeah."

"So, what if what I'm telling you is true, Adele?"

"Can you prove it?"

He smiles. "I can prove it by the results in my own life ... and by the lives of many, many others. But the real proof comes when you allow God to prove it to you himself. That's the only real way to understand what I'm telling you."

"Meaning?" I frown at him.

"Meaning, if you invite God into your life ... if you open your arms and receive all that he has to offer-his forgiveness and goodness and kindness and mercy-you will begin to understand this for yourself."

I take in a deep breath. "I wish that were true."

"It is true." He smiles. "I challenge you to find out for yourself that it really is true."

"How?" I ask with a shaky voice. I'm still trying to hold back tears. "It sounds impossible ... and too good to be true."

"For starters, how about if you trust someone to help you?"

I frown. "Trust someone?"

"Yes, I understand you have a hard time trusting, Adele. And I can't say that I blame you for it. The problem is that if you quit trusting everyone, you will always be unhappy."

"But every time I trust someone" - my voice cracks - "they let me down."

"Have I let you down?"

I think about this. "Not yet."

"But you might give up on me before I do let you down, just to make sure that it doesn't happen?"

I just stare at him now. It's like he's reading my mind. "Maybe ..."

"Help is a two-way street, Adele. Someone must be willing to give ... someone else must be willing to receive."

I nod eagerly as I remember that fictional pile of money. "Hey, I'm totally willing to receive."

"I'm not just talking about a handout-something you can pocket and take off with. I'm talking about relationships."

"I don't think I understand."

"From what you've told me, you're used to depending on yourself. You're a smart young woman, a hard worker, resourceful, but eventually all those things failed you, right?"

"Yeah."

"In a way, you let yourself down too."

"I guess."

"So maybe it's time to stop relying so much on yourself, Adele. Maybe it's time to rely on others ... and God, too."

The truth is that actually sounds good to me. Unfortunately, it also sounds too good to be true. "But how? How is that even possible? What do I do?"

"If you're willing to take a chance, I know a very lovely couple who would be happy to open their home to one of God's lost lambs."

Okay, the tears are coming again. "Really?" I don't even feel offended that he called me a lost lamb. In fact, it sounded rather sweet.

He nods. "And their home is within walking distance of your school."

"Really?"

"All you have to do is say yes."

"Yes." I nod eagerly. "Yes!"

With that he picks up the phone, and I listen as he briefly explains my situation. Less than thirty minutes later, a sweetfaced woman named Beth Edwards picks me up at the mission. She seems almost old enough to be my grandmother, yet she has a young look about her. And she chats easily with me as she drives through town.

"I retired early from nursing," she tells me. "And my husband, Jim, has a small accounting firm. Our three children are grown and live away from us, and we have four grandchildren who sometimes come to visit in the summer. So we really do have room in our lives to help someone. And when Pastor Roland told me about you a couple of weeks ago, both Jim and I felt it was the right thing to do."

"Pastor Roland told you about me a couple of weeks ago?"

She pulls into the driveway of a modest but well-kept ranchstyle house not four blocks from the high school. "Yes. He was quite taken with you-and the fact that your name was the same as his deceased wife." She turns and smiles at me. "You see, his Adele was a good friend of mine, too."

I'm sure that I'm in a state of shock as she shows me to a bedroom painted the color of a summer sky. "I think you'll like this room. It gets good morning light." Then she gives me the rest of the tour of the neat, comfortable house. "Feel free to use the laundry room to wash your things," she says after she's shown me the sunny yellow room. Finally she stops by a hallway bathroom. "And this will be mostly yours to use, Adele."

I don't even know what to say. "I'm good at keeping things clean," I finally mutter.

She pats me on the shoulder. "I'm sure you are."

"I ... uh ... I don't know how to thank you for

"You are most welcome, dear. And dinner is at six."

"Can I help you?" I offer.

"Not tonight. For now, I just want you to relax, take a bath or shower, do your laundry, have a nap. I'm sure you've been through a lot."

I nod. "Yeah ... kind of." Then she goes her way, and although I'm still in a state of shock and wonder, I follow her suggestions to clean up and do laundry, but before I take a nap, I get down on my knees and thank God for giving me this chance.

Several Months Later

It took me about a week to get over the shock that I actually get to live with Beth and Jim. Pastor Roland was right-they are two of the sweetest people I have ever met. And yet they are not pushy or intrusive. It's like they understand that I still need a little independence, and they give me my space. Even when Beth insisted on taking me shopping for some clothes and things to replace what was stolen, she never tried to press her tastes or styles onto me. And when we finished, she told me I was one of the most sensible teenage shoppers she had ever been privileged to shop with. That was nice.

With some help from Beth, who talked to a school counselor with me, I got back into school and have been able to make up my missed classes by doing extra credit and a few things. And I even admitted to Lindsey, who is now my best friend, that she hadn't been completely wrong about Cybil after all.

"It might've just been pride on my part," I told Lindsey in art shortly after I was back in school. "But at the time I thought I was trying to help Cybil. Unfortunately, she didn't really want my help. It turned out pretty badly."

Lindsey nodded. "I haven't seen Cybil for a couple of weeks. I think she might've moved or something."

Or dropped out. But I wasn't too surprised. Really, that girl just wasn't thinking straight. Even so, I hope Cybil will be okay. And as badly as she wanted her "freedom," I have a feeling it's probably turned into her prison by now ... one way or another. Speaking of freedom, I admitted to Beth that I am underage. She didn't seem too concerned, and after a few weeks, she set up an appointment with a social worker friend of hers, who actually turned out to be trustworthy. Because my mom is still missing and because I turn eighteen in the spring, they decided no formal report needed to be filed. To say I was greatly relieved is an understatement.

Another thing I was relieved about was Jayden. I honestly didn't think he'd ever speak to me again, but he still wanted to be friends. Or maybe he wanted more, but I told him that just being friends was about all I could handle for now, and he was okay with that.

It took a few weeks, but shortly before Thanksgiving, I returned to River Woods and gave Ms. Michaels a formal apology-telling her the whole truth and nothing but the truth about why I left so abruptly. To my surprise, she seemed to already know all about it. And she told me that some of the residents, especially Mrs. Ashburn, had been asking for me. Then she offered me my job back, which I gladly accepted. But even before my first day back to work, I visited Mrs. Ashburn. Without going into all the details, I explained to her about my new housing situation, and she seemed very happy for me.

It felt good to be working again, but this time I decided to put in fewer hours. Although I want to earn enough money to cover my personal expenses, as well as to save for college, I don't want my job to take up all my spare time like it did before.

That's partly because I want to have a life, and also because I want some time for volunteering at the mission. I've been helping with the kids' program on Saturdays. It's one of the highlights of my week and something I refuse to give up. Nothing is sweeter than seeing those sad faces transformed into smiles as we play games, do crafts, sing songs, and go to the library for story hour. And the moms appreciate the break too.

Last weekend I nearly fainted when Jayden asked if he could come do it with me. And having him there was great. The kids loved having a guy around, and although Jayden confessed later that he was still trying to wrap his head around this whole homeless thing, he said helping with those kids is changing the way he thinks.

While I wasn't homeless for a long time (even if it felt like an eternity some days), I saw and experienced some things that have forever changed the way I look at homeless people. I used to assume they were lazy or drug addicts or just plain losers. Now I realize that all kinds of people, through all kinds of circumstances, might find themselves without a home at some point in their lives. And I believe it's the job of everyone to help those in need. For that reason, I plan to focus my college education on a degree that will allow me to help others and to make a difference.

Another thing I've learned is that a lot of people are better than I give them credit for. During that time when I felt so alone, I could've gone to Ms. Michaels for help-she even said so. And I could've called on Pastor Roland sooner. And both Lindsey and Jayden told me they would've helped too, but I never gave them the chance. So I guess what Pastor Roland said about giving and receiving is really true-it is a two-way street.

But the most important thing I've learned is that I was wrong-life is not a cosmic coin toss. The whole time I thought I was looking for things like a home, money, friends, food ... I was really looking for God. I've discovered that knowing God-having a real relationship with him-is worth more than any of the material stuff I thought was missing. And I wouldn't trade my friendship with God for anything. Because like Pastor Roland said, when you get God, you get everything. And that is why I don't think I'll ever be needy again.