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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1313062
by cheri
Rated: 13+ · Prose · Drama · #1313062
My story of being homeless and the hope I have that things will get better!
My Story of Homelessness and Hope

I huddle underneath the overpass on Michigan Street watching as the crowds pass me by. I used to be like them. I used to walk by the homeless and not give them a second glance. But that was before I became one of them. Before I lost everything and was forced to use all my wits just to survive. Now I live day by day without any hope for my future. Scared of what life might throw at me next. As I stare at the faces of the people passing by me, I wonder if I did something wrong. Did I make God mad at me and cause Him to curse me like this? I consider myself a good person. I believe in God.  I go to church every Sunday or I did before I became homeless. Why me? Why do I suffer when there are so many other people who seem to have charmed lives? I rack my brain trying to figure out where I went wrong, but nothing comes to mind. Sighing, I rise from the cold ground and shuffle away looking for something to eat.

Everywhere I go people give me dirty looks. I can tell what they’re thinking from the expressions on their faces. They’re wondering why I can’t get off my lazy butt and just go look for a job. They probably assume I’m a wino or a druggie and I’m looking for my next fix. As I pass by them, they quickly hurry out of the way as if I’m carrying a plague of some sort and I might infect them and cause them to become homeless just by touching them. I glare back at them defiantly daring them to say something. I may be homeless but I’m still just as human as they are. I may have few possessions now, but I still have my dignity and I hold my head high proud of everything I’ve been through in my life. All the abuse I’ve suffered at the hands of friends and family members. The stinging pain of betrayal by people who turned their back on me when I needed them most and left me to fend for myself. The heartache of caring for my mother through her nineteen year illness and having to watch her suffer a slow and painful death while I stood by helpless to save her.  I’ve survived so much torment and despair and managed to come through it all with my sanity intact. Not every person who has been through what I’ve been through has been that lucky. Some give in to despair and turn to drinking and drugs to numb the pain. Some give up on life and commit suicide rather than face reality. Some go insane and end up in mental institutions or wander the streets muttering under their breath shunned by society.

I could have ended up the same way. But, I have an inner strength that keeps me going and keeps me strong. I have never given in to madness, suicide, drink or narcotics because I know there’s something better for me. I may be destitute now, but I know there is a great destiny in store for me and soon I will rise up from poverty and become better and stronger that I was before. God loves me and he will not let me stay this way. Not when there is so much good I can do in the world and so much I have left to accomplish. This thought cheers me and fills me with hope. It might not look like it now, but my time is coming and when it does, I will look back on all of this and realize why I had to go through it. God is preparing me for a great future. Everything has a purpose and everything has a season. Life changes in a heartbeat and someone’s fortunes can go from good to bad in the blink of an eye. All I have at the moment is hope and faith to go on, but sometimes that’s all that’s required for a miracle to happen and miracles have happened in my life. I should have been dead a long time ago, but I’m still here safe and sound. I know that it’s because He has something special in store for me.

Another miracle is coming for me now. I can feel it and when it does, I’ll be ready. I’ve suffered long enough. Now it’s time to enjoy the blessed life God has in store for me.

© Copyright 2007 cheri (cjhutson at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1313062