Food For Thought

— Arlene Zimney

On a recent sunny morning, “cold and windy” for Florida, I wheeled a shopping cart into the local Aldi’s. I was running a little late for appointments that day, but I told myself I could squeeze in a quick stop.

In the vestibule, I grabbed a disinfectant cloth to wipe down the cart handle. I glanced over my shoulder to the bench located along the window. A mid-40ish woman with brown curly hair was sitting there, scrolling through her phone. As our eyes met, she gave me a big smile and said, “You have curly hair like mine!”

I smiled back and said, “You’re right about that.” After a brief chat about what wind does to curly hair (nothing good), she matter-of-factly said, “Well, I’m homeless. I don’t always know when I’ll be able to wash my hair or get to a hair dryer.” That’s when I noticed the small suitcase with wheels next to her. The indoor bench was her temporary shelter from the chilly wind outside.

The world sort of tilted for me at that moment. An ordinary conversation had turned quite serious. What could I possibly say? At what point would she ask me for money? Was there any danger here? All the thoughts that flash through your mind when you would very much like to avert your eyes from something unpleasant, and just keep walking…

The woman was talkative, but was making no move to get off the bench. She was simply stating her current situation, very calmly. I think I mumbled some platitude about how sorry I was, and after a few moments I wheeled my cart into the store to shop.

My concentration was now shot. I knew I was going to be late for my upcoming appointments. I managed to get through my short grocery list, but all I could think about was the woman back on the bench. The government was still shut down, and SNAP benefits had been suspended. But for the turn of a friendly card, I could be the woman on the bench.

I added a turkey sandwich to my basket before I checked out. I figured if she was gone when I left the store, I could always eat it myself.

But she was still there. I put on a smile as I wheeled my cart over, and handed her the sandwich, saying, “I hope you will be able to use this.” She said, “Thanks so much.” And then she spent 10 minutes talking, hardly drawing breath, about her various woes – trouble with family back in Missouri, the aunt she wants to sue for defamation of character, how she is verbally abused when she tries to get into a shelter. She told me, “There are so many hypocrites out there – they talk about charity, but never show any. I just need to get a lawyer. I really need to get a lawyer.”

She asked me, “Where is the justice?”

I told her I haven’t known where the justice is for a long time. I tried to think of something sensible and helpful to say to the homeless woman sitting on a bench in a grocery store, who more than anything wants to get a lawyer, during a government shutdown. I couldn’t come up with anything to say. She never asked me for money or for any other kind of help. She just wanted someone to listen to her. And she wants justice.

I wished her all the best of luck. Then I got into my warm car and drove home.

Arlene Zimney (MSLS, Syracuse University) After a 30-year career in Purchasing and Contracts, she retired in 2015 and immediately became active in OLLI. She is a former Chair of the Volunteer Management Committee and Secretary for OLLI-USF’s Board of Advisors. Arlene enjoys classes in literature, history, technology and the arts. She also is an enthusiastic participant in the Talking Movies and Food Glorious Food! Shared Interest Groups, and in many OLLI social events.