by Deborah Lawwill

Created on: June 05, 2009

In December of 2007, I was homeless during Christmas and about 400 miles from all of my friends in family. I had made a mistake and moved in with a man who was abusive and sadistic. I decided it would be better to be homeless.

It was cold and snowing, I'd lived in Florida the past ten years so snow was an unusual sensation to feel on my skin. The number 1 bus in Lansing, Michigan is what took me to a small women's shelter out in the boondocks, all of Lansing's were full or only accepting women with children. I had lost my baby in a devastating miscarriage. Tears began to swell in my eyes as I called each shelter just to hear a cold voice say "Women with children only". Was I no less important just because I lost my baby and had no children? I was in their minds. The pain of that thought stung my heart as a bus drove us further and further into the country.

Finally, we arrived a small town. The town was bleak and almost deserted. All that was there was a grocery store, some houses, and a tiny little library. One of the houses was the women's shelter. I remember the fear I felt as when a blonde woman opened the door and told me to step into her office. What a peculiar place I was in. These people had a strange accent and said that the small ghetto I'd lived in near east Lansing was "a scary place". I'd been in much worse places, like south side Chicago, so I figured if there were no bars on people's windows and no pitbulls in people's yards, it was a safe place to live.

The woman asked me questions about my situation. "It's the holidays," I said "This topic is rather depressing. Have I not provided you with enough information?" The lady looked downcast upon the spewing of those words and said in a soft, smooth voice "I'm sorry, but I'm required to do this before I let you enter the house."

She felt compassion. I could see it in her eyes. The same look the police man held as he took me to jail, for he knew he had captured the wrong person and let the real bad guy go free. I tried to shake off the memories, the "what if" thoughts of me holding a little baby in my arms with a nice, loving man. Not the menace that was back in Lansing. The thoughts of longing for a normal family, a normal husband, a normal life. I began to cry.

The woman handed me a tissue. "Cheer up. I'm sure you'll make new friends here." That, I did not, however. I was a city girl in the midst of country women. They ostrasized me until the day I moved back in with that horrible man. Finally, I had had it and called my relatives in Florida and moved back here, where I live now. I'll never forget the kindness of the woman or the police officer and how they made a bleak situation, just a little brighter.

Learn more about this author, Deborah Lawwill.
Click here to send this author comments or questions.