The Forgotten (originally written in 2012)

By Julie Wood

Last Friday, my friend that calls herself "homeless by choice," sat with me in my living room and in a brief moment of getting in touch with her emotions, she began sobbing.  She was sobbing as she was telling me of another friend of hers from the street that was just murdered.  This is #3 this year. 

This one was very young....one of the street children....

One of the 3 was beaten and left for dead behind a dumpster.

This one was thrown off a bridge by 2 men to drown.

My friend was explaining through her sobs, how no one wanted this woman, even her family is not claiming the body. 

She sobbed and could barely get out the words, "....i guess she will have a potter's grave like the rest of us...."  

the "rest of us" meaning the other homeless, the other mentally ill, the other forgotten and invisible in our society.

The pain in her voice penetrated my being.  Her words have been ringing in my head.  And I am saddened.  and I commit myself to have open eyes with love and compassion - seeing those that others turn from.

and i am thankful for those that may have once been the forgotten that God has brought into my life and they have softened my heart and changed my world with their love, their authenticity, their smiles and pain and their struggles and their true joy.