miss rita

Today I was gutting a house a few blocks from where I sleep. A car pulled up and an old woman got out and asked if we could help her. I walked down the street with my new friend Jen, the dredlocked angel, and checked out the woman's problem. She had a detached brick garage which was teetering on the brink of collapse. She asked if we could clean it out, but after a brief discussion we decided there was no way in hell we should touch anything in that structure. After our apologetic refusal, she graciously thanked us and blessed us over and over.
Before leaving she mentioned her neighbor might need some help, so we stopped by to check on her. A woman quickly emerged from the small brick house, then retreated to "put herself together." After a few minutes she reappeared and apologized, saying it takes her about 5 minutes to put on a blouse these days because of arthritis. She said her name was Miss Rita and being in your 80's can get tiresome. She took us to her shed in her back yard and asked if we could remove some things before it gets demolished. Over the next half hour we moved out tools, chairs, an oil can, a framed picture of Jesus and other miscellaneous rusted items she will never use again. Her shed was very obviously underwater and these things were absolutely destroyed, but they were hers and she wanted them. They reminded her of her husband, she said. She told us she'd been widowed for ten years and things were bearable until that storm. Now it's day by day, the phrase I hear constantly from the people around here.
Afterward she took us to her house. The inside was basically empty, except for a chair, a cement floor covered by a rug with the image of a lion's head, a refrigerator and a gas stove that doesn't work because she has no gas. When she needs to cook or make hot water, she uses a hot plate. It was at least 100 degrees inside, with no fans or open windows to move the air. This is where Miss Rita sits, every day.
We told her about the center where we work and how she can get three hot meals a day. We also told her we can cut her grass for free and she was overwhelmed with joy because she can save the money she pays monthly to have it done now.
Jen and I walked the mile back to our center, fixed three lunches for Miss Rita, stopped at the gas station on the walk back and got her two gallons of water. We were met at her door with overwhelming gratitude and blessings with a promise we'd see her soon at the center for lunch and maybe even dinner. As she walked us to the gate, arm in arm with Jen, she told us she loved us. We told Miss Rita we love her too.
Jen and I walked back down the street, grinning and silent.
If anybody has any question about why I'm here, it was just answered.
Actually, I wasn't really even sure, until today.
Love.