Yes, I Have Social Worker Written On My Forehead

Okay, I had another post planned today, but given yesterday's events, I felt compelled to share this story.



Yesterday afternoon I was at church with the bug for the Christmas Pageant Rehearsal. I was there with approximately 30 other parents. We were scattered all through the church, some directing the children, others fiddling with costumes, and the rest of us watching the children rehearse. I was sitting at the far end of the church with Ms. Barbara, the grandparent of one of the bug's friends. We were discussing her son who was recently deployed to Iraq and the adjustments she is having to make now that she is raising his daughter (the bug's friend.) Like I said, we were sitting at the far end of the church, we were not even close to the entrance. When I felt a tap on my shoulder. I looked up and there was a young woman. She was clearly homeless and had tears running down her face.



"Excuse me ma'am, can you help me. I was sent here by the homeless shelter, they said you may be able to help me."



Ms. Barbara and I looked at each other and then at the young woman. She explained that she was released from the hospital several days ago and had no place to go. She had been staying at the homeless shelter but they did not provide food on the weekends. She had no money and was desperate.



"I need a shower and clean clothes. I have not eaten since yesterday afternoon. Can you please help me."



Ms. Barbara went to the kitchen to see what she could find while I waited with the young woman. I asked her if she had family, she said she did, but did not have the money to call them and asked if she could use the church's phone. Unfortunately, the church phone was in the office, which was locked. I asked her if she knew her family's phone number, she stated that she did and knew that if she called them, they would come and get her. When Ms. Barbara came back, I went out to my car to get my cell phone. When I got back to the church, the young woman stated that she could not remember the phone number. I offered to call information for her, but she stated that her family lived in another city. I offered to call information in the state in which her family resided, but she shook her head and stated "no, thank you." She again stated that she needed a shower and clothes and began crying.

"I don't like looking like this." she stated, "I want to look presentable, these aren't even my own clothes." And that was the crux of it, she did not want her family to see her in her present condition.

Our church did not have a clothing closet nor did we have a bathroom with a shower. Neither Ms. Barbara nor I had cash on hand to give to her. I again offered to call her family or someone that she may know. She shook her head and began to walk away. I went after her and asked her if she had a place to stay tonight, she stated that she could stay at the shelter again. Ms. Barbara and I both offered to take her there or anywhere she needed to go. She thanked Ms. Barbara for the food and me for the offer of the cell phone. She then looked at me and stated, "you remind me of my old social worker. Thank you for all your help and making me feel like I was someone."

Ms. Barbara and I watched her walk out of the church. Ms. Barbara looked at me and stated "I hope she is going to be alright. You don't want question her story, I want to give her the benefit of the doubt that she really needs help. At least I know we tried." Ms. Barbara paused for a moment and then stated, "Isn't funny, out of all these people in this church, she picked you."

I guess I had social worker written on my forehead yesterday afternoon. Working in child welfare, I've seen it all. Many social workers that I have encountered over the years, would have written her story off and wondered what her ulterior motive was. I, like Ms. Barbara, want to give her the benefit of the doubt. I hope she made it to the homeless shelter ok. I hope she found a shower and fresh clothing. I hope she was able to contact her family. Regardless, I wish there was more that we could have done.