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MILLIE BELLE

I'm somewhat of a people watcher. Though I try very hard to not be judgmental I sometimes find myself putting people in little boxes, rich, poor, shy, bully, loud, vulgar, dirty, bum, snooty, self righteous, intelligent, not so smart, saint, sinner. You know how it is; but really, who are we to judge others?

I've found many of these people, once I take the time to get acquainted aren't necessarily what they first appear to be. People are often judged on first appearance but who are we to judge when we don't know, have never been in that person's shoes. I've met some fascinating people in my several years of life and I would never have had the privilege of getting to know them if I had gone on first appearances alone. There was the Cat lady and Bessie and Old Marshall, Grace, Elizabeth and Stan, old Ira, most folks thought of him as an old grizzly bear, mean and contemptuous; there was George, the old fellow who had worked on the railroad and had actually met the infamous Frank James and there was Rosa the hat lady; and then more recently there is Millie Belle. In one way or another I had pre-judged them all until I had the opportunity to actually get to know them. I've become a better person because of each of them as they touched my life. I've become more understanding and compassionate and I have learned something, what goes around comes around. It pays to treat others the way we want to be treated and not make judgments that are not ours to make. Who are we to judge and who knows, maybe some of these folks are really angels in disguise. You never know who you may be entertaining. Things are not always what they seem at first glance

I see her almost every day, the bag lady trudging up and down the street with her shopping cart filled with her life's possessions. I didn't know her name for a long time; she was always just "the bag lady", some poor, homeless soul living on the street. Her name is Millie Belle and she isn't really homeless she's just afraid to live at home so she might just as well be homeless because she doesn't live there, not very often.

Once when she was sitting on the bench in front of my home taking a rest from her walking I made sandwiches and iced tea and sat on the bench with her while we shared lunch. That's how I found out who she was and a little about her.

Talking with her soon convinced me she was somewhat mentally challenged, like about two slices of bread short of a sandwich but she was also harmless. She has what you'd

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