Wednesday, January 29, 2014
Last night, we took the young women to the homeless shelter in Midvale. It was heart.breaking. It was agonizing. It was horrifying. I have never been inside of a homeless shelter. I have dropped items off outside, or at the entrance, but I've never walked through the shelter and witnessed the horrible scene inside. Beds lined up. Everyone of them taken by someone. Children everywhere. Everywhere. Crying, yelling, fighting. We read to the children in the playroom. The first two girls who sat with me had lice crawling out of their hair and down their foreheads. They were filthy. They were craving attention. I read to them and them asked them if they would like to try to read to me. They were up for the challenge and did their best to sound out each word. The second little girl who sat with me, Chelsea, was a little girl with big dreams. She is 8 years old. She wanted to try to read every single book I had and she did a great job! I told her that this wasn't going to be her life forever, that she would grow up to be a teacher, that she was going to change the world, and that I believed in her. I think she believed me. I went home, so grateful for privacy, for my own bed, for my children's individual beds, for our own pillows and blankets, for hot, running water, for our own food, for our clean clothes, for a shower and a bath, for the ability to work, the ability to read, the ability to drive my own car, for cleanliness, for the gospel.