God's Special People

I have these two friends who drop by ever so often to chat and say hello. One is a homeless man with severe mental dillusions and the other, a grandmother, who lives up the block who is completely off her rocker. One is named Ted* and the other is Roberta*.

Ted is a guy in his late 40s who sleeps in the park at night and roams the Upper West Side during the day. Wearing layer upon layer of clothes and smelling of both rotten eggs and a combination of human poo and urine, he is quite the odoriferous fellow. Stopping in at various churches, he conjols others for money in whatever way he can muster. With me though, he doesn't ask for money (although he used to, I guess he just got tired of me saying, "No. However, would you like a sandwich?") Every Tuesday and Thursday, Ted comes downstairs to my office and sits down to talk about his life and whatever is going on until its time to hand out the sandwiches. Usually his discussions make absolutely no sense, he jumps from one conversation to another in quick succession. Lately he's been talking about killing his uncle by slitting his throat or by pouring bleach on him and setting the bleach on fire. I haven't told him that bleach isn't flamable--just in case he actually does this. I don't really think he'll ever do this- but I have mentioned him to the local police who smile and say, "Nah, I wouldn't worry about ol' Ted, he's fairly harmless." I think he's harmless too.. although last week he did give me a fright.

I had been relunctant to tell Ted that I was gay because one never knows how a homeless mentally challenged paranoid schitsofrenic (sp?) would handle such revelations. However, the day finally came when I told him because of his insistence that I need a woman to make my nights more enjoyable. Upon hearing the news, he was shocked.. and responded in a loud, "You are going to hell!" kind of way. But that wasn't what was frightening. The next day he came back and to say, "You know, perhaps I can help teach you some special techniques to show Roy (I told him about my boyfriend) and preceded to ask for my home address and when a proper time to drop by so he could sexually satisfy me. Gasp!! I was too shocked to actually answer right away. Gathering myself, I told him that, "No, I didn't need him to do that," that, "No, we will never have sex," and "No, I do not give you permission to talk to me like that."

He stopped in today and apologized for the way he talked to me last Saturday. And, almost as if the conversation never happened, he went back to why he hates his uncle and how he misses his mother (who died last year) during this holiday season. Ted is a bit of a staple around this neighborhood and, seeing him reminds me that life continues on.. day by day.. with all its idiosyncricies.

Roberta is a bit different. She is in her mid 60s, as thin as a rail, and is missing earlobes that look as if they were bitten off by something (or someone). And, she always has painted on her lips the brightest red lipstick you ever saw. Sometimes she tries to sneak a kiss on my cheek just so that she can see the bright lipstick on my cheek. Today she came in (as she normally does) laughing and carrying on very loudly. Screaming, "HOW IS MY PASTOR BO DOING TODAY? I LOVE MY PASTOR BO!" She is someone who knows she's nuts and takes the appropriate medication that really only sedates her.. you ought see her when she's not sedated! Still, she brings a warmth and a smile into the office whenever I see her. Unfortunately she's always looking for money, a cigarette, or a piece of cake. Still, when I see her she lightens my day.

Roberta came to visit me this past Sunday too. Wearing a fancy dress and a bright red wool coat, she asked if I had any change, a cigarette, or a piece of cake. Unfortunately, I had nothing of the sort but we talked and we both got a big kick out of seeing each other. She had to leave shortly after she arrived because her "show" was coming on the television and, as she said, "I JUST GOTTA HAVE MY SOUL TRAIN!" I found at today that Aretha Franklin was on Sunday and Roberta preceded to sing to me some of Aretha's fine singin'. I think Aretha's a mighty fine singer too so we both joined in a rendition of, "You better stop, think, about what you're doin' to me.."

We had a great time.

This past Sunday our guest preacher preached on the times in which we entertain angels unawares. The sermon highlighted the many times in which people come into our lives that enrich us and then, sometimes depart before we have a chance to thank them. I have been fortunate to thank both Ted and Roberta for their friendships.. even when our meetings are odd or off the wall. To me, they are like angles (heck, they might even be angels.. if it wasn't for Ted's horndog-ness, I might really wonder).

Sometimes I wonder if I am not entertaining angels, then who might I be talking with. I say that because of something Jesus said once, "In as much as you do it to the least of my brethren, you do it unto me." Hmm.. whether I am entertaining angels or Jesus, I know that God is calling me to care for the poor and lonely. I wonder if God just said that about the angels or if Jesus just said that about himself, just to make sure I do it. Regardless, I have found people like Ted and Roberta as God's special people and I am sure glad they are my friends.

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* Not their real names.