Maria

Today it was "Code Blue" here in Philadelphia, a phrase that means the temperature outside was low enough to be life threatening. For Maria, the weather not only threatened her life, it took it.



On such days we open our doors earlier than usual at The Welcome Center. We can't stand to have anyone waiting outside in the cold, so the church where are housed not only gives us additional hours but additional space. Today, nearly 90 folks came to the Center.



The feeling was good inside...warmth and movies and plenty of lunch for everyone. It felt like a collective snow day without the snow, just the being together in warmth and safety. If I had not known the stories and the struggles of so many of the folks with us today, I would have thought we were at some kind of a social club with laughter being exchanged, warm greetings, and comfort. But I did know many of the stories and it amazed me to experience so much joy in spite of the struggles.



And then I got the call from Sam. The connection on my cell phone was not good and I was struggling to hear his words. Maybe the struggle had to do with what Sam was saying or the pain I heard in his voice. Sam, from Outreach, had shared that Maria was found dead under one of the bridges where she slept. He was with some of the medical team from Jefferson and they were waiting for the Medical Examiner. Though he couldn't tell for sure, most likely Maria died from drinking to stay warm, then falling into a deep sleep and freezing to death.



This should never be. Ever.



Sam asked for prayers for Maria, her family, and all who are on the street , and I prayed for him, too. And he asked me to plead with the folks at The Welcome Center to please be careful in this very cold weather.



I went into the room where folks were gathered as we prepared for lunch. I shared this sad announcement and one man who knew Maria well let out an agonizing cry. When he asked me if she was dead, I said, "Yes, I believe so..." still having a hard time taking this in myself.



We paused and offered prayers and I did talk to folks about alcohol in this weather and making sure they had a place inside tonight. One person said to me, "This is just wrong!" and it is...



An article in the Los Angeles Times done on street medicine (Doctors who go out on the street with outeach teams) said that the average age of death for someone who is living on the street is 48--an age that most of us in this country would call "middle age." An age when some of us are just getting the hang of life.



I don't know Maria's age or much of anything about her. I do know her last name, and I hesitate to use it on the off chance her family, if any, is reading this and does not yet know that she has died. All I know is that her life was precious and she should not have frozen to death under a bridge.



I'm writing way past midnight and it is still so cold outside. There is a chance of snow and I can't help but wonder about all the Marias outside tonight. I hand it over to God and pray for their protection, but God always gives a little piece of it back over to me, and I don't get off the hook that easily. And so I do what I can, and I am grateful for so many good people who struggle with me to end homelessness.



Into your hands, O God we commend, Maria's spirit. Amen.