GOING HOME
by K.E. Morgan
Martha had been homeless for three weeks. She was eighty years old. She worked hard all her life, never married, never had children but she’d never felt lonely before. She enjoyed her little apartment with all her plants and her little dog Juniper. Martha watched the cooking shows wishing she could make the dishes they did but her social security and tiny pension only went so far. But she was frugal and always had just enough money leftover to buy yarn so she could knit hats. She’d give them to the poor homeless people that she’d see in the neighborhood and sometimes to the children near the school.
Then a few months ago, the landlord raised her rent. Not only raised it, he doubled it. Martha pleaded with him not to do it, there was no way she could pay that much. She paid what she could, and he took it but sent her a letter about her unpaid balance. The next month she paid the same amount, and he applied it to the arrears. At the end of that month, she received an eviction notice for unpaid rent. Once again, she gave him all she could afford but then got a letter stating she owed one and a half months rent and eviction stood.
Martha went to court with all her papers, to try and convince the court to let her stay but all they could do was grant her a little time to find somewhere to go. Everywhere she tried required so much money up front that Martha knew it was hopeless. She came home from the grocery store one day to find her belongings on the street in front of the building. People were taking her things. And Jupiter? He was gone. She didn’t know if he’d run away, been taken by someone, or taken to the shelter.
Martha sat on the steps and cried. Nobody asked her if she was okay. Nobody seemed to notice her at all. She got up and pulled blankets and personal things from the pile of furniture at the curb. She filled her shopping cart with as much as she could and then she was homeless. It was December and it was cold. She had her heavy coat on and had dressed warmly that morning, which she now saw as a blessing.
Standing there in front of her former home Martha had no idea where to go, so she began walking. For the next three weeks she’d walk all day, and huddle in doorways at night, mostly churches. She felt safer there. Martha’s Social Security and Pension would be in her bank account in a couple of weeks but until then she had ten dollars and forty two cents left. She cried for Jupiter every night and prayed he was somewhere safe and warm.
It was Christmas Eve. Martha had never felt so sad or hopeless in her life. Always a neat and tidy woman, she had not showered or changed clothes in weeks. Her face was dirty, and she smelled bad. Now when she tried to go into a building to use the bathroom, she’d be chased out. The only place she could go was the bus station and sometimes the library.
It was getting dark as Martha pushed her cart down the freezing cold street. Suddenly a man was there, he pushed her down and she fell on the sidewalk, the wind knocked out of her. She couldn’t even scream as he ran away with her cart. The last of her belongings were gone. Now she had nothing. She tried to get up but her back hurt. Her arthritis was worse than ever, and she worried she might have broken her hip when she fell.
A young woman was there reaching for her hand. “Let me help you.” She said softly.
Martha was on her feet again and realized she was standing in front of a Church.
“My name is Gloria, let’s go inside. It’s warm in there.”
“No, they won’t let me in. It’s Christmas Eve and the people will be coming soon.”
“Not until later. It’s empty right now.”
With that she guided Martha to the door and into the Church. Martha had gone to Mass every day before she lost her home, but she hadn’t been since. She felt as if she didn’t belong there anymore.
Gloria led her to a pew, and they sat down. Gloria gave Martha a cup of coffee. “I just bought this, it’s hot and I haven’t drunk any. Please drink it, it will warm you up.”
Martha gratefully accepted the coffee and with the first sip she felt the warmth spread through her. “Thank you so much. For the coffee and the kindness. I’d forgotten people could be kind. So many don’t even seem to see me anymore and those that do, look at me in disgust.”
“Martha, tell me about your life and how you ended up without a home.”
“It’s crazy. I worked hard all my life. I dropped out of High School to take care of my mother when she became ill. She had cancer. I went to work as a waitress and made enough to pay the bills. Mother died when I was seventeen. “Martha sighed “I was to be married when I was nineteen. His name was Henry. We’d been dating since for two years and when he came home from the war, we were going to get married, but he never came home.”
Gloria sat silently letting the old woman talk. Martha smiled. “I never married. I put myself through school, got my GED and then a degree in business. I ran a company for many years, but it was sold and I was let go. I got other jobs, but it was hard. Nobody wants to hire an older woman. I worked until I was seventy and had to retire. I had some savings and when that was gone, I just lived on my social security and pension. I had a dog; his name was Jupiter. I’m so worried about him. When they evicted me, I lost him. I don’t know where he is.” Martha sobbed softly and Gloria put her arm around her. It was oddly comforting, and Martha realized it had been a long time since anyone had touched her.
“We’ll pray that Jupiter is safe.” Gloria assured her, as Martha finished the coffee.
“I think I’d better go. If the pastor finds me here, I’m sure he’ll be angry. They don’t like us to come inside. It puts off their parishioners.” Martha started to get up, but Gloria stopped her.
“It’s alright for a few more minutes. Tell me, were you a kind person? Would you have helped someone in your position? Or would you have just walked on by?”
Martha shook her head. “Oh, no, I would never just walk by. I used to make hats for people. Sometimes if I had enough leftover yarn, I’d manage to make a blanket or two. I gave them away and usually I’d give some cookies or a dollar if I had one. I felt sorry for people who had no home. I never imagined it would be me one day.
Gloria nodded. “It happens to a lot of people these days.”
“I’m so tired. I just want to sleep, but I must go. I can’t sleep here.” Martha stood up to leave.
Gloria rose and took her hand. “Martha, it’s time to come home.” She said softly.
Suddenly Martha felt warm all over. There was no pain. Not from arthritis or the fall she’d taken. The church was gone, and she could see herself lying there in a vacant lot. She knew then that she was dead. She held tightly to Gloria’s hand; the struggle was over. She was going home at last.
Then a few months ago, the landlord raised her rent. Not only raised it, he doubled it. Martha pleaded with him not to do it, there was no way she could pay that much. She paid what she could, and he took it but sent her a letter about her unpaid balance. The next month she paid the same amount, and he applied it to the arrears. At the end of that month, she received an eviction notice for unpaid rent. Once again, she gave him all she could afford but then got a letter stating she owed one and a half months rent and eviction stood.
Martha went to court with all her papers, to try and convince the court to let her stay but all they could do was grant her a little time to find somewhere to go. Everywhere she tried required so much money up front that Martha knew it was hopeless. She came home from the grocery store one day to find her belongings on the street in front of the building. People were taking her things. And Jupiter? He was gone. She didn’t know if he’d run away, been taken by someone, or taken to the shelter.
Martha sat on the steps and cried. Nobody asked her if she was okay. Nobody seemed to notice her at all. She got up and pulled blankets and personal things from the pile of furniture at the curb. She filled her shopping cart with as much as she could and then she was homeless. It was December and it was cold. She had her heavy coat on and had dressed warmly that morning, which she now saw as a blessing.
Standing there in front of her former home Martha had no idea where to go, so she began walking. For the next three weeks she’d walk all day, and huddle in doorways at night, mostly churches. She felt safer there. Martha’s Social Security and Pension would be in her bank account in a couple of weeks but until then she had ten dollars and forty two cents left. She cried for Jupiter every night and prayed he was somewhere safe and warm.
It was Christmas Eve. Martha had never felt so sad or hopeless in her life. Always a neat and tidy woman, she had not showered or changed clothes in weeks. Her face was dirty, and she smelled bad. Now when she tried to go into a building to use the bathroom, she’d be chased out. The only place she could go was the bus station and sometimes the library.
It was getting dark as Martha pushed her cart down the freezing cold street. Suddenly a man was there, he pushed her down and she fell on the sidewalk, the wind knocked out of her. She couldn’t even scream as he ran away with her cart. The last of her belongings were gone. Now she had nothing. She tried to get up but her back hurt. Her arthritis was worse than ever, and she worried she might have broken her hip when she fell.
A young woman was there reaching for her hand. “Let me help you.” She said softly.
Martha was on her feet again and realized she was standing in front of a Church.
“My name is Gloria, let’s go inside. It’s warm in there.”
“No, they won’t let me in. It’s Christmas Eve and the people will be coming soon.”
“Not until later. It’s empty right now.”
With that she guided Martha to the door and into the Church. Martha had gone to Mass every day before she lost her home, but she hadn’t been since. She felt as if she didn’t belong there anymore.
Gloria led her to a pew, and they sat down. Gloria gave Martha a cup of coffee. “I just bought this, it’s hot and I haven’t drunk any. Please drink it, it will warm you up.”
Martha gratefully accepted the coffee and with the first sip she felt the warmth spread through her. “Thank you so much. For the coffee and the kindness. I’d forgotten people could be kind. So many don’t even seem to see me anymore and those that do, look at me in disgust.”
“Martha, tell me about your life and how you ended up without a home.”
“It’s crazy. I worked hard all my life. I dropped out of High School to take care of my mother when she became ill. She had cancer. I went to work as a waitress and made enough to pay the bills. Mother died when I was seventeen. “Martha sighed “I was to be married when I was nineteen. His name was Henry. We’d been dating since for two years and when he came home from the war, we were going to get married, but he never came home.”
Gloria sat silently letting the old woman talk. Martha smiled. “I never married. I put myself through school, got my GED and then a degree in business. I ran a company for many years, but it was sold and I was let go. I got other jobs, but it was hard. Nobody wants to hire an older woman. I worked until I was seventy and had to retire. I had some savings and when that was gone, I just lived on my social security and pension. I had a dog; his name was Jupiter. I’m so worried about him. When they evicted me, I lost him. I don’t know where he is.” Martha sobbed softly and Gloria put her arm around her. It was oddly comforting, and Martha realized it had been a long time since anyone had touched her.
“We’ll pray that Jupiter is safe.” Gloria assured her, as Martha finished the coffee.
“I think I’d better go. If the pastor finds me here, I’m sure he’ll be angry. They don’t like us to come inside. It puts off their parishioners.” Martha started to get up, but Gloria stopped her.
“It’s alright for a few more minutes. Tell me, were you a kind person? Would you have helped someone in your position? Or would you have just walked on by?”
Martha shook her head. “Oh, no, I would never just walk by. I used to make hats for people. Sometimes if I had enough leftover yarn, I’d manage to make a blanket or two. I gave them away and usually I’d give some cookies or a dollar if I had one. I felt sorry for people who had no home. I never imagined it would be me one day.
Gloria nodded. “It happens to a lot of people these days.”
“I’m so tired. I just want to sleep, but I must go. I can’t sleep here.” Martha stood up to leave.
Gloria rose and took her hand. “Martha, it’s time to come home.” She said softly.
Suddenly Martha felt warm all over. There was no pain. Not from arthritis or the fall she’d taken. The church was gone, and she could see herself lying there in a vacant lot. She knew then that she was dead. She held tightly to Gloria’s hand; the struggle was over. She was going home at last.