Buddhist Catholic Contemplative Evangelical General Christian Hindu Jewish Latter-day Saint Muslim New Visions Progressive Christian

Beliefs

Topics

Columnists

Resource Library

Research Tools

Video

Podcasts

Thought Readers

Faith In Media Tracker

Newsletters

Ad-Free & Subscriber Log-In Subscription Support

Follow Patheos

Home
Catholic
A Sleeping Bag and a Sack of Rice

A Sleeping Bag and a Sack of Rice

Last updated on: July 14, 2017 at 12:26 am by Mary Pezzulo

A Sleeping Bag and a Sack of Rice 2017-07-14T00:26:23-04:00 Mary Pezzulo

LOGO Patheos Explore the world's faith through different perspectives on religion and spirituality! Patheos has the views of the prevalent religions and spiritualities of the world.

rice-2380790_640

I happened to notice this in my newsfeed today; please take a look when you get five minutes:

Oh, I know how that feels.

We’re still poor and probably always will be, but in some ways that’s hard for me to remember because it used to be so much worse. After Rose was born, we were broke indeed. We gave our last three hundred bucks to that con artist fake midwife because she was threatening us, and then we had nothing. We lived on about five hundred dollars a month plus food stamps, and those five hundred were a gift from my grandmother, the only relative who still liked me, so it wasn’t as though we could feel any dignity about having earned it. Our apartment was in a dilapidated slum building on the worst street in LaBelle. There was mold eating the bathroom wall; the floor tiles were peeling up; there was an insane woman living upstairs who liked to wake us up at two o’clock in the morning screaming at her latest boyfriend and wailing away on the guitar. She liked to pound on the floor so hard it shook the walls. Once she pounded on the floor and broke our kitchen light fixture; the broken glass went right into the meal I was trying to make on the stove.

I had been raised with the general assumption that there were two kinds of people: there were normal people who didn’t need food stamps, and there were “less fortunate” people who did, and I was meant to be of the former kind. There were accomplished people with things to be proud of, and there were failures, and I was meant to be accomplished. There were normal people who lived in respectable houses they owned themselves and “street people” who lived in squalor, and I was to avoid anything that would make me look like a “street person.” I was deeply humiliated to now find myself on the “street person” side of the Great Divide, with no way out.

I was severely traumatized by Rose’s birth and by the run-in with my parents; I would have felt like garbage in any case. I especially felt like garbage in that apartment. I had nothing to take my mind off of the fact that I felt like garbage. I couldn’t sleep without the upstairs neighbor waking me. A good two weeks out of the month, after the food stamps ran out, I couldn’t eat very much either. I couldn’t watch TV because we couldn’t afford TV service, a Netflix subscription or anything of the kind. We had internet, on and off, when a college student in the building let us go halves on a wifi network, and that was all.

I felt I wasn’t human, and I had nothing to take my mind off of that fact.

During this time, Molly was busy founding The Friendship Room. She didn’t know that that was what she was doing; she thought she was starting a temporary project to help local homeless people during a polar vortex. The weather was set to get much cooler than usual, down to minus fifteen degrees Fahrenheit at the very warmest for a few nights. On a normal winter night, you could theoretically survive sleeping outdoors in downtown Steubenville, though it would be a horrible experience. But during the polar vortex, any homeless person who couldn’t get a bed in the already overcrowded homeless shelter would die.

Molly opened a store front downtown; she set up camping cots and sleeping bags for people to lie on. She got a percolator and made some hot coffee. She got on Facebook and asked her friends to bring warm soup.

It was far better attended than she thought. It turned out that it wasn’t just the homeless who needed help during the polar vortex. Molly discovered a whole population of poor people who were not quite homeless, but who couldn’t afford to keep the utilities turned on. They had apartments downtown with no electricity or gas; they nailed blankets over the windows and slept in their coats. And they suffered horribly all winter long.

Molly decided to leave her makeshift shelter open, just until spring.

She got on Facebook again. “We need warm food– soup, chili, stew, tea, also instant oatmeal packets and disposable bowls. And any blankets you can spare. Just bring them downtown to me.”

I wanted to help so badly. I knew if I told anyone I knew how much I wanted to help, they’d scold. I was a charity case myself, a failure and a “street person.” I couldn’t afford to be charitable. It would be irresponsible.

I hated myself even more than usual.

Then, I remembered: we had a sleeping bag. One of Michael’s old roommates had abandoned it here, or maybe it was something his mother had seen at a thrift store and given to him because it looked so useful. It was moth-nibbled and smelled like dust, but it was mostly whole.

“Would you take a sleeping bag?” I asked.

“Yes,” she replied.

I got the sleeping bag down from the closet.

I went to the kitchen to have a look around.

Previous Post

July 11, 2017

Watty Piper's Mechanical Dystopia: Looking Back At "The Little Engine That Could"

Next Post

July 14, 2017 Let's Examine the Transcript of Trump's Remarks on the Solar Wall

Browse Our Archives

Select a Category abortion Abuse Advent America American Christianity angel angels Annunciation Appalachia apparition apparition chaser apparition chasers apparition culture art art review babies baby baby Jesus Bad Lip Reading bad statue contest bath beauty Bible story blog blogkeeping blood book review Brandon Sanderson breastfeeding bus Catholic catholic conspiracy alarmism Catholic Oppositional Disorder Charismatic Renewal Charlie the Cat chastity Christ Christian idenitity Christianity and Judaism Chronic Illness clean clothing COD piece comedy compassion conscience conspiracy theory conversion cop-on-black violence Crucifixion cry of the poor culture Daesh Daily Saints death death penalty devotional diaconate diaper diapers dirty disability Donald Trump Dorothy Day dream drugs Eastern Catholicism Eastern Christianity education election election update Elsewhere on Patheos empathy environment Fear feminism film review fish flashback fluffy buns food Franciscan University of Steubenville Friendship Room fun Gabriel gardening gospel hair-splitting Heaven hell heresy Hillary Clinton history Holly the Witch Holy Spirit holy war Homeschooling homosexuality horror human dignity humor Icon idol immigrants infection inter-religious dialogue Interpretation of Scripture Islam Jesus Jihad Joseph joy laity and lay vocations lamb dinner laundry lent lgbtq literature love manners Mary Medicine and Science Meditation mercy mess milk misogyny Missouri monasticism monster motherhood mourn with those mourn movies movis music mystery nature neurodiversity New Pro-Life Movement news nonsense nostalgia O antiphons obituary objectification Ohio Valley Ordinary Time ordination Ordo Amoris parable paradox Passover peanut butter personal beliefs pets philosophy Planet Charismatic poetry politics polls poop Pope Francis Pope Leo power in the Church prayer prayer request prayers preferential option for non-violence president presidential election priest primary private revelation pro-life prophecy Public face of Catholicism Pure Flix Q and A race racism random rape rape. sexuality reader's request Reckoners refugee religious trauma ressurrection Right to life Saints saints and celebrations same-sex same-sex marriage satire scandal secular feasts seder Seven Joys Seven Last Words sex sexual ethics sexuality silencing six months skid row slavery social justice Speculative fiction spiritual abuse spoon stain story suffering suffrage suffragette Sunday Gospel temple Tenebrae Responsories Terror the exorcist The Friendship Room The New Pro-Life Movement Things I Learned on the Internet tin cup traffic true story tv review Uncategorized USCCB vice and temptation violence Virtue virtue and vice war Way of the Cross whimsy whole life women's ordination work of mercy Year A

Select a Month October 2026 September 2026 August 2026 July 2026 June 2026 May 2026 April 2026 March 2026 February 2026 January 2026 December 2025 November 2025 October 2025 September 2025 August 2025 July 2025 June 2025 May 2025 April 2025 March 2025 February 2025 January 2025 December 2024 November 2024 October 2024 September 2024 August 2024 July 2024 June 2024 May 2024 April 2024 March 2024 February 2024 January 2024 December 2023 November 2023 October 2023 September 2023 August 2023 July 2023 June 2023 May 2023 April 2023 March 2023 February 2023 January 2023 December 2022 November 2022 October 2022 September 2022 August 2022 July 2022 June 2022 May 2022 April 2022 March 2022 February 2022 January 2022 December 2021 November 2021 October 2021 September 2021 August 2021 July 2021 June 2021 May 2021 April 2021 March 2021 February 2021 January 2021 December 2020 November 2020 October 2020 September 2020 August 2020 July 2020 June 2020 May 2020 April 2020 March 2020 February 2020 January 2020 December 2019 November 2019 October 2019 September 2019 August 2019 July 2019 June 2019 May 2019 April 2019 March 2019 February 2019 January 2019 December 2018 November 2018 October 2018 September 2018 August 2018 July 2018 June 2018 May 2018 April 2018 March 2018 February 2018 January 2018 December 2017 November 2017 October 2017 September 2017 August 2017 July 2017 June 2017 May 2017 April 2017 March 2017 February 2017 January 2017 December 2016 November 2016 October 2016 September 2016 August 2016 July 2016 June 2016 May 2016 April 2016 March 2016

TAKE THE

Religious Wisdom Quiz

I built a 75-foot gallows for my enemy, but I was hanged on it instead. Who am I?

Select your answer to see how you score.

Mordecai Haman Bigthana Ahasuerus