“If one of your brethren becomes poor, and falls into poverty among you, then you shall help him, like a stranger or a sojourner, that he may live with you.” Leviticus 25:35

Violet, Part 2

Yesterday I told you a few things about our neighbor, Violet. Today… more of the story.

As difficult as caring for Violet’s needs was, our willingness to help caused her to trust us—something that was not easy for her. One morning we found her standing by our car. It was no small feat for her to travel on a dirt road down her long driveway, up the gravel road a way, then up our driveway, all while pushing her wheeled shopping basket ahead of her over rocks and ruts. It took her about an hour. She did not ask, but rather told my husband as he was leaving for work that he was to take her to a certain bus stop. From there, she would catch a city bus to a post office about 35 miles away. She wanted to check her mail. I don’t know who ever sent her anything, but she showed up every weekday. My husband told her that if she was sitting in the back seat of our car when he was ready to leave each day, he would take her to the bus stop (quite out of the way for him). He had to drive with the windows down because of her  body odor.

Sometimes the bus driver would put her off the bus on the side of the road—I assume because she was so cantankerous; when that happened, she would stand in the middle of the street, thumb out, waiting for a ride. The police picked her up numerous times and brought her home. Once a geriatric nurse gave Violet a ride, clipped her long toenails before she left, then came and sat with me on our front steps to talk about her. Compassionate strangers often took her out of the middle of the street. Sometimes these people would knock on our door as her only nearby neighbors, wondering who was giving her the help she obviously needed.

Meals on Wheels quit bringing her food because she was impossibly demanding and threatening. She called the fire department when her pipes broke in winter, and they came out (in their uniforms) to fix them. They also brought her cords of wood, at no charge, so she wouldn’t freeze. Social services came out, peeking in the windows of her trailer, and saw a mess everywhere, moldy food on the counters, with a terrible smell coming from inside. A kindly lady came every day to feed Violet’s outdoor cats; Violet shot at her, threatened her with a hatchet, and screamed at her to stop.

My husband and I knew beyond a doubt that God had appointed us to a task. We were being called to alleviate suffering. To care for a widow. To feed the hungry. To give to the poor. To do for her what she could not do for herself—and there were so, so many things she could not do for herself. My heart began to soften towards her. She wasn’t a project—she was a hurting woman who desperately needed Jesus.

Tomorrow’s devotional will finish Violet’s story.

“Lord, You often lived out the example of loving difficult people. Help us to do the same, and forgive our reluctance. Amen.”