A Warm Bed

It’s snowing again down here in Nashville. They’ve forecasted approximately 1.5” of snow, so you know everybody has lost their minds! Schools are letting out two hours early. People are leaving early from work to make it home before traffic gets too bad. “You better hurry and go home,” my coworkers tell me as they hurry out the door, scarves and umbrellas trailing behind them. “You don’t want to get caught in this mess.” I smile and nod. The truth is I’ll be staying late. Not because I want to or because of my schedule, but because I don’t have anywhere else to go.

I’ve been homeless for the past nine months - alternately living in motels, a women’s shelter, and my car - and it’s time like this when not having a place to go really hits home for me. Everyone has had those days where, for whatever reason, you just don’t feel like going home – maybe your home is too crowded, too noisy, or too lonely. But how would you feel if, at the end of the day, there wasn’t even a place to call home?

The shelter I stay in is such a miserable place. I try to spend as much time away from there as I can: I come in to work an hour early, and I leave 3 hours late. During the weekends, I wander the city trying to find something to occupy my time. Usually, I end up driving in circles burning precious fuel. Anything not to have to go back too early. If I can get in just before lights-out – with just enough time to take a shower and go to bed without having to deal with the staff members yelling and talking down to us like children, or having to hear the petty gossip that goes on between the residents, or having to sit through yet another mandatory chapel service lead by well-intentioned but clueless ministers – then I could make it through another night.

But then the shops begin to close. The libraries shut down. And I’m left with the reality of my situation: I have no home. No where to go to enjoy the little things we take for granted: a warm bed; privacy; food in the refrigerator and somewhere to cook it; a place to get cleaned up when, how often, and however long you want; and the freedom to escape from the outside world.

So as the snow covers the ground and everyone rushes to their homes, I stay behind.

What else is there to do?