You Get What You Give

As the holiday season continues to descend upon us, I can't help but be reminded of a holiday season nearly 10 years ago that forced me to take stock of my own blesings and gifts unlike any other.

It was nearly Christmas, and it was bitter cold. I was standing outside of the Meijer on West Saginaw with my arms full of grocery bags, waiting for the extremely late #3 CATA bus. When the bus finally pulled up, the crowd of people waiting had swelled to nearly 20, and they pushed and shoved viciously for the first place in line. I sighed- this was my only way of transportation, and I often felt riding the bus required a certain type of hardness of character.  Often, I had no patience for people's rudeness or arrogance, and I steeled myself that evening as I stepped closer to the bus door. I could see through the windows that there would be no seats when I finally boarded, and that I would have to stand for the 20-minute ride home.

Just then a woman came running up to the stop and breathlessly began asking people for change. Her clothes were dirty, and she was not dressed for the icy wind that whipped across the parking lot. When she asked me for change to get on the bus, I nearly spit the words "No, I dont have any!" and stepped up into the crowded but warm bus. I was so sick of being hassled for money by liars who pretended they wanted to ride the bus, but would then spend the collected funds on alcohol, cigarettes, or drugs. It was never a practice of mine to give hand-outs.

Eventually, the entire crowd was boarded and the driver began to pull away from the stop, the bus swaying like a ship from the weight of the packed passengers. Through the heads of the many seated and standing people around me, I caught a glimpse of the woman standing at the empty busstop, watching us pull away. Her posture was slumped in defeat. For some reason that snapshot of her standing out in the cold gave me a pang, and the loose change in my own pocket suddenly began to burn against my leg.

I have found it hard to forget that night, and the way it made me feel to deny another human the opportunity to get home, to get warm, to feel safe. I am continually thankful for my life and the opportunities I have been offered, especially as my 31st birthday, my husband's and my 6-year anniversary, and my second Christmas with a new kidney approach.

Comments

[Tammy Eddy]

thank you for the frankness of your thoughts. I think we have all--at one time or another--been in your shoes and felt the same things. I appreciate your 31st year of life, and your 2nd year of re-newed life. I learned so much from you as a neighbor and saddened that I didn't get a chance to learn more (your blog is offering me a 2nd chance!).