Tent City

In most of my 35 years of living I have always been a giver. I can name plenty of times where I gave something, whether it was a gift or my advice or just a listening ear. But I always gave something. I don’t have much I’m low income and I have 5 children I’m supporting on my own but I knew in my soul that it was better to give then to receive and I try my best to give the best gifts I can. Which is probably why I have a hard time receiving gifts or even acts of service. I don’t know what that looks like for myself. Although when people have given me gifts I never rejected it. I was very grateful.

I remember one time when I went out with my sister to feed the homeless that lived down the block from me. Tent City is what we called their little community. Most if not all of the people who lived there were battling addiction to drugs. Heroine was the main choice in drug. There was a crisis in my neighborhood and these people wanted to be close to the it. So they made tents and make shift cardboard box homes underneath the bridge. They decked it out with mattresses they found on the streets and sofas that were thrown out on trash day. Whatever they can find in the trash to make their living situation more comfortable they took. Anytime that I walked by them or drove by I felt a heaviness of sadness. They walked around hopeless looking like zombies, not caring for anything in the world but their next fix. People looked down on them with disgrace. They wanted them out of the neighborhood. I just felt pity for them. I thought to myself and wondered what got them there in the first place. I’m pretty sure many of them had families worried about them and looking for them and here they were stuck in Tent City.

I knew that I couldn’t do much for them but to give them a meal. See I knew what it felt like to be homeless. Although I wasn’t homeless because of addiction I knew what it was like to not have nowhere to go and no family to turn to. I could relate in a way. I was stuck and alone, I too was hopeless at the time of my homelessness. I wanted to give back in some way. So my sister and I came up with the idea that we should make them dinner. So we went out to the market and got a whole turkey, rice, bags of frozen vegetables, dinner rolls, bottled water, aluminum foil, napkins, paper plates and cutlery.

We got home and went right to cooking. The turkey and rice took a few hours but we got it done in time. We made about 30 platters making sure there was enough on each plate. Wrapped them in aluminum foil and placed 3 platters in a few plastic bags til we had them all packed. We grabbed the shopping cart and loaded it up with a case of bottle water, the food on top and napkins and cutlery in a separate bag. And then we headed down to Tent City.

It was cold out so we made sure we bundled up. The November chill in the air had no mercy. It was already dark outside although it was only 5:30pm, daylight savings time had just came. We can admit that we were a bit afraid to be coming outside at that time. The neighborhood is pretty dangerous. Crime was everywhere. But we just kept going hoping that we would be safe. We got to the bridge and could see some people outside of the tents just hanging around. Some dipping and could barely stand up and some shooting up dope or having others do it for them. The air smelled so strongly of urine and feces, we could barely breathe. Used needles and trash littered the sidewalk and street. It was just overwhelmingly sad to look at and a depressing place to be. But we didn’t come there to judge we came on a mission. Feed them. So my sister and I started asking who wanted a meal and before we knew it we were surrounded. People were coming out of nowhere with a hand out. We began to feel bad because we knew we didn’t make enough platters to feed everyone, so we gave away all that we had. They were so thankful though. And some of them immediately ate and some of them were too high to but kept the food anyway.

So we left Tent City and headed back to my house. We felt a sense of joy entangled with grief. We were happy that we had done a good deed but we were sad for what we witnessed. I couldn’t imagine myself living in those conditions. I don’t think I could make it out here in these cold streets of Philadelphia. I thought to myself these people are warriors. If it’s one thing I admired about them was that they were survivors. And I hoped that one day they would make it out.

You see I always been a giver and will continue to do so til the day I die. My love tank is full when I can fill other empty tanks. When I can offer succor to the needy I feel a sense of fulfillment. So for me it’s better to give than receive. I know some people in this world would disagree because we live in a world where people are for themselves. If it doesn’t benefit them, they dismiss it. I believe I was born to be a giver and not just for people I know but for people that I don’t know. The only thing that bothers me is that I wish I had more to give. But it’s all good, in the end I’ll give the shirt off my back if I have to.