Convergence
In the toy district of downtown L.A., many different people’s lives converge together. There are the store owners, many of them Asian. There are the store employees, majority of them illegal Mexicans. There are the homeless, most of them African-American. Finally there are the customers who come from all different ethnic groups. And our relationships are built based upon need.
The prevailing odor in the air is dried up urine since the homeless have nowhere else to go. Only a heavy down pour can wash away that particular stink. There is almost constant traffic in the streets during the Christmas season with all of its pollution and noise. Juan, a homeless man, can make up to $120 tax free dollars in one day directing and watching parking spots. I know this because he brings all the change and dollar bills he gets as tip to our store in exchange for ten dollar bills. He has territorial rights on our block and shoos away other competitors. The only time this slim, street-smart man abandons his post is when the policemen come around. Apparently he has a criminal record.
Due to the busy season, we had to hire a temporary worker. Martin is in his late thirties and has recently come up from a beautiful small beach town in Mexico. He left his family and came to L.A. to look for a job to pay for his eight year old daughter’s medical costs. She has cancer. His sincere manner of speech, hearty laugh, and love of toys betrays his inner child despite his hard life. Yet he hates Christmas. I understand now that it is partly because he knows that he will lose his job when Christmas is over.
Jose has been working at the shop for awhile. He is hard-working and has a family to support although he is only in his early twenties. He makes money on the side by recycling the soda cans and the cardboard boxes from the shop. He also saves all the pennies that Juan gives him in a jar. About two weeks ago he didn’t show up for work due to a family emergency. We later found out that his teenage cousin had been shot to death in front of his mom’s house during a drive by shooting. His younger brother was also shot but survived.
When darkness falls, a city made of cardboard boxes and tents goes up every night. It is a dangerous and depraved world.
Today is my last day of work in downtown L.A. on a daily basis. Tomorrow I will head off to Yosemite National Park with Erik’s family and my eyes will behold a whole new world.
This Christmas I wonder why I have been spared from severe suffering. Though I am grateful, my heart has been broken through all that I have witnessed.
In the toy district of downtown L.A., many different people’s lives converge together. There are the store owners, many of them Asian. There are the store employees, majority of them illegal Mexicans. There are the homeless, most of them African-American. Finally there are the customers who come from all different ethnic groups. And our relationships are built based upon need.
The prevailing odor in the air is dried up urine since the homeless have nowhere else to go. Only a heavy down pour can wash away that particular stink. There is almost constant traffic in the streets during the Christmas season with all of its pollution and noise. Juan, a homeless man, can make up to $120 tax free dollars in one day directing and watching parking spots. I know this because he brings all the change and dollar bills he gets as tip to our store in exchange for ten dollar bills. He has territorial rights on our block and shoos away other competitors. The only time this slim, street-smart man abandons his post is when the policemen come around. Apparently he has a criminal record.
Due to the busy season, we had to hire a temporary worker. Martin is in his late thirties and has recently come up from a beautiful small beach town in Mexico. He left his family and came to L.A. to look for a job to pay for his eight year old daughter’s medical costs. She has cancer. His sincere manner of speech, hearty laugh, and love of toys betrays his inner child despite his hard life. Yet he hates Christmas. I understand now that it is partly because he knows that he will lose his job when Christmas is over.
Jose has been working at the shop for awhile. He is hard-working and has a family to support although he is only in his early twenties. He makes money on the side by recycling the soda cans and the cardboard boxes from the shop. He also saves all the pennies that Juan gives him in a jar. About two weeks ago he didn’t show up for work due to a family emergency. We later found out that his teenage cousin had been shot to death in front of his mom’s house during a drive by shooting. His younger brother was also shot but survived.
When darkness falls, a city made of cardboard boxes and tents goes up every night. It is a dangerous and depraved world.
Today is my last day of work in downtown L.A. on a daily basis. Tomorrow I will head off to Yosemite National Park with Erik’s family and my eyes will behold a whole new world.
This Christmas I wonder why I have been spared from severe suffering. Though I am grateful, my heart has been broken through all that I have witnessed.
