Christmas in Miller Park

It was Christmas day. I had just got off a 12 hour shift and was getting ready to spend the night alone with my thoughts. Yesterday had been a really bad day. My mom proved for the thousandth time that I didn’t really matter to her, and for the thousandth time I wished that wasn’t true. I wished there was some way I could make myself worth something to her, to make her love me and accept my love. But it was becoming more and more clear I could only love her from a distance.

It was also the coldest night of the year, only 13 degrees. I drove down 5th street past Miller Park and saw someone was trying to sleep on the bench at the bus stop.

“Go over there and wake her up.”

I didn’t like that idea, but somehow I couldn’t shake it. I decided to drive over to my apartment and make some hot chocolate. If the lady was still there when I came back out, I would talk to her.

She was.

I parked a block away and walked over. The atmosphere was so calm, so serene, that you could not help but feel a supernatural sense of peace. The cold was already making my toes ache through my work shoes but the pain felt good.

Right across from a homeless shelter. Why the fuck would they not let the poor lady at least sleep in the lobby?

I walked up so quietly the lady didn’t wake up and for a moment I got scared she was dead. “Hey,” I said softly.

The woman opened her eyes. “Hey,” she said back. “Merry Christmas,”

Her voice sliced my heart down the middle.

“Merry Christmas. I saw you over here, and It might sound crazy but I think I’m meant to talk to you for a while.” I sat down next to her on the bench.

The woman stared at me bewildered. “You look like an angel,”

“I can promise you I’m not one of those,”

“Do you know Jesus?” The lady said. She was dark-skinned with large eyes. She wore a hat that covered her ears, a thick cheetah print scarf, two coats, and 3 or four blankets of varying descriptions. Her age was impossible to determine, but from her voice she was somewhere between my mom’s age and my grandma’s. “Are you saved?”

“Yes ma’am,” I said.

“You sure?” The woman looked at me sideways.

I didn’t feel like talking about religion.

“God called me out of the darkness that was my life when I was 12. He saved me and He chose me to be a preacher, an encourager. But I didn’t listen and I sinned a lot. Yeah, I sinned a lot, and I seen a lot, but God’s got me. I seen things no soul ought to see and born things no soul ought to bear, but God’s got me. I seen my brother get gunned down 4 years old. I watched my husband die, and watched my sons live the street life til their lives ain’t their own no more. I’ve been electrocuted, and shot in the head, yep – shot in the head - but I survived like the rose that grew from concrete.” Her voice was strong and eloquent, and sent chills down my spine. “Tell me about yourself. How old are you, child?”

“20.”

“Have any kids?”

“No,”

“You married?”

“No,”

“That’s all right. Keep your virginity until you’re ready.”

“I’m definitely not a virgin,” I laughed.

The lady looked into my eyes like she could see my naked soul. “You’re going to think I’m crazy, but I’m going to tell you a few things about yourself. I think the people you commit fornication with are not people you really love. You act a certain way because you’ve been hurt a lot in the past, and though you are trying to act in new ways you end up hurting others in the same way that they hurt you. Am I right?”

“Yeah. My family hurt me a lot. My mom especially, she tends to cut people off a lot and never let anybody close, and I am the exact same way. I hate myself for it. My dad never even wanted me in his life. I love both of them but I’m still bitter. I’m working on forgiving them more though.”

“There’s no such thing as forgiving someone more, child. Either you forgave them or you didn’t.”

About this time, a woman walked over from the little side street before you get to the traffic circle. Her cheekbones stuck out and her lips were pressed in a hard line. Staph infection sores spackled her face.

“Hey baby. I haven’t seen you in a while,” the homeless lady said. “Come here and give me a hug.”

The meth addict hugged her quickly and stood shifting from one foot to the other. “You know what? It’s Christmas day and my husband, I hate to call him that, but I fucked up and told him yes and we’ve been married three months, he didn’t even text me today. Says he’s out in Tennessee making moves. Well guess what, motherfucker? I set up the location on your phone and your phone is in fucking Greensboro.”

She glanced from the homeless lady to me and started filling me in on all the details of how much she did for her husband and how little the husband gave her in return. Her sentences were coming out like bullets. “What do you think, huh? You’re awful quiet just sitting there listening to me. He’s a dickhead, am I right?”

“You sure he’s okay?” The older lady interjected. “Something bad might have happened.”

“Ha! The only bad thing that’s happened is him fucking me over like the bitch ass white boy he is. It’s getting too cold for you to be out here like this, you know? Why don’t you go to the Salvation Army or something?”

“My time ran up and I had no place to go and they say you have to wait a whole year before you can come back. Don’t worry about me though, God’s got me.”

“Ha! God don’t got you,” She spat the words out. “Look at you sitting out here freezing to death.”

“He’s got me and He always makes a way. This is just part of his assignment for me, it won’t be forever.”

“His assignment? Nah he must be punishing you. What did you do? Did you cheat on somebody? Fuck around with satanic shit? Do drugs?”

“No! I’ve been sober 5 years. And I didn’t do nothing that he’s punishing me for now or else I would feel it in my spirit.”

“You ain’t feeling nothing in your spirit besides this weather right now,” she countered. “What about you? You on the street too?”

I shook my head. The cold had made my toes and fingers start to hurt so bad the pain was unbearable. “No, something just told me to stop and talk with her.”

“Well, I guess it is Christmas night. I’m gonna go to the store I’ll see y’all later.”

The lady adjusted her blankets. She only had one glove and in the ungloved hand she was squeezing a handwarmer. “You’re cold, aren’t you? Here, take a blanket.”

I bunched my knees up on the bench and wrapped up. The lady gave me a handwarmer too. It no longer felt like we were two total strangers, it felt like we had known each other for a long time.

“What’s your name?”

“My name is Stevonne, like Stephen but it’s a female’s name.”

“And I’m Hannah.”

“You know Hannah, God loves us so, so much. He loves us even when we don’t love Him back and in ways we didn’t even know we needed. He’s given me so much of His love in my heart I just love everybody. He wants to give you all of that love, but in order to do that He’s got to have all of you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You may be ‘saved’ but you are not committed to Him. He wants you, Hannah. But the devil wants you too.” She pulled her hat down over her ears better. “You probably think I’m crazy.”

“I don’t. Listen, if you want a place to spend the night I got my own apartment. I got enough room for both of us.”

“Nah, I can’t do that.” She shook her head vigorously. “I’ve had several people invite me in but I just can’t trust nobody. I can’t make myself accept an offer like that even if I wanted to.”

My heart sank. “But it’s so cold I’m scared you might freeze to death.”

“I just have to trust that God’s got me.”

I glanced at my phone and realized I had spent 2 hours with her. I was so cold it was a struggle just to move or talk. I didn’t want to leave but I had to. And I couldn’t force her to come with me even though I wished I could. I remembered I had $20 in my pocket and I handed it to her. “I want you to have this at least.”

“Do you need it?”

“No, I’m rich. I got my own place and my own food and a good job. This is my Christmas present to you.”

“Somehow I feel like you really need it yourself, so I’m gonna hold on to it until I see you again. Will I see you again?”

“No, don’t do that, I mean it. But I will see you again, I promise. I’m going to keep a look out for you.”

“Can I pray with you before you go?”

“Yes, please.”

“Give me your hands.” She took her one glove off. We held hands so strongly it was like each of us was trying to squeeze the cold out of the other. Stevonne began praying with such power and confidence if you heard her you just knew God was going to answer. The wind picked up and howled so strong I could not hear clearly what the lady was saying. She let go and put a hand on my head.

“And in the name of Jesus, Amen.” She finished.

“Thank you so much. Can I hug you before I go?”

“Of course, child.” When we hugged, I felt all the motherly love I didn’t know I missed. I straightened up her blankets for her so she would be as cozy as possible.

“Please come with me? I could try to find you a hotel room or something.”

Ms. Stevonne shook her head.

“God really did send you to me tonight, whether you’re an angel or not.” Her voice broke. “Remember what I told you. Be good, baby.”

This whole past year has been shaped by those few hours on that park bench. To be accepted and loved by a total stranger like that, when my blood family doesn’t, has changed my perspective so much.

Yes, I did see Mrs. Stevonne again. Though nobody can convince her to accept an offer of a roof over her head, she somehow finds a way to survive. And no matter what she’s been through and what she’s seen, nothing can take away the love in her heart.