A Missionary's Perspective

Please, don’t stop

“Bon dia.” She suddenly turns around. “Bon dia, I know you,” she says. “That's right, I was here last week too,” I respond. She is skinny and cheerful, very volatile in her behavior, but at the same time so present that she cannot escape you. Despite the smile on her face, it is clear that she is not doing well. She makes hardly any eye contact and it is difficult to decipher what exactly is going on in her mind. She is not properly dressed, but she has really tried her best to appear decent with little clothing. "How are you?" I ask her. “Good, good,” she answers and quickly looks away. “How are you, okay too?” She doesn't wait for my answer and walks away from me, into the warehouse where we work. She doesn't know how to handle my sincere attention and tries to divert it. Or is she really distracted again?

I don’t know. Two seconds later she is talking to one of the female volunteers. Fortunately, this volunteer has a good idea of what is going on and arranges extra clothes for her without asking any questions. A little later she gratefully settles down with a cup of soup and a sandwich. Meanwhile, she talks endlessly about everything and basically nothing. In her own way, she tries to make contact with the people around her, ignoring the looks of addicted and often homeless men. After she finishes her food she hangs around for a while. It is noticeable that she appreciates the atmosphere in the warehouse. One of the volunteers talks and prays with her. Then she has had enough, gets up with, greets us generally, and leaves. No one knows where she is going. Later that afternoon I see her walking the streets. She comes up to me in the middle of the road, looks me straight in the eyes and says, “I'm so grateful for what you guys do. Please, don't stop.” She looks away and she is gone.

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