Not In Control

Have you ever stopped to think

Or taken a moment to ponder

Maybe realizing that you live

Ever on someone else’s wonder

Left by yourself you wouldn’t have

Even so small as a box to live in

So keep in mind there’s more than just you

Seeking out for others to give to

 

Some of us would have no home save for the family that takes us in. We must remember to not complain, then, when things don’t go the way we want them to.

Life doesn’t really go as planned, and, in fact, I believe that life likes to laugh especially hard at those who think they are in control.

Homeless

They say that home is where the heart is.

As far as she’s concerned that sounds like a complete load of-

Truth.

It’s the truth.

Even when they wandered underneath the cold and impersonal light of day on a planet so far from their place of creation they had been home because they had been together and had an actual purpose. Not that they had both been together and away from their solar system at the same time often. Not once the Royal Children had been born, at least.

Comet had always been really good with the smallest of children while she, Star, had been a lot better with children that were five and older. Comet liked to tease that it was because Star was young at heart (and in her mind) but not quite at the completely-needing-someone-to-take-care-of-every-little-thing stage like most toddlers and under were. Star didn’t bother retaliating that Comet was better with the smaller children because both sisters knew that it had been Comet’s desire to have children of her own for well over a millennia.

So now that her sister is gone.

Not dead, because there was this really annoying (wonderfulpainfulnecessary) thing where those in their ‘line of work’ were able to come back (somehow) from death.

No she was just gone.

And never coming back.

So Star would never be home again no matter how hard she worked, how long she lived or what her purpose was.

Star was homeless.

Love In the Strangest of Places

What would you do on your wedding day? Do you get married at a historical site, in a registrar’s office or at a court house? Do you get married in a temple or a synagogue or a chapel or other religious place? do you then have a wedding party luncheon and a reception in the evening?

I am not married. Out of my eight siblings, five of them have married and each ceremony and/or reception was a little different. But none of them held a reception or luncheon quite like this one.

Picture this:

A beautiful bride, resplendent in her gown, her hair done just right, makeup stunning and jewelry elegant. Her groom, handsome in his suit, hair and beard trimmed neatly, waiting patiently for his bride to place her hand in his.

They say their ‘I do’s and still in their wedding clothes begin to hand out sandwiches to those who are homeless in several parks near where the wedding ceremony takes place.

What?

Why are they doing that? That’s a little odd. Shouldn’t they change first at least?

Not the newly married Deven and Ressurrection Graves. This couple has an unusual beginning. They met in a homeless shelter in Washington, D.C. Deven courted and wooed Ressurrection over the course of several months before she agreed to become Mrs. Graves and they were married two years later on the 50th anniversary of the March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom, which is also the same anniversary of when Martin Luther King, Jr. gave his ‘I have a dream’ speech.

This couple still works with the homeless to this day through a non-profit organization that they founded. It’s called Glory Soldiers Global.

You might be wondering why I’m blogging about this so late at night. I was just sending a last email before bed to several members of my church, once logging out I did a quick browse of the current news available and stumbled across an article of this couple (http://www.today.com/news/couple-who-met-homeless-shelter-pay-it-forward-help-others-2D12089799). Their story touched my heart and I knew that I had to write about it before I went to bed while it was still fresh in my mind. I have a bad habit about forgetting to do something with it comes to writing sometimes. (Which isn’t good as that is kind of my job outside of being a homemaker.)

Even if their story doesn’t catch your interest the way it did mine, I hope that you take a moment to check out the webpage for their non-profit Glory Soldiers Global (http://www.glorysoldiersglobal.org/).

And the next time you see someone who doesn’t have a steady roof over their head, remember this: they can become anyone if only they’re given a little bit of hope for their future.

Forever Cold

She looked into the reflection before her.

Her eyes were hazy and yet there was a sharpness within them, though there were almost no defined boundaries around them.

Her hair was a streak of pale starlight that looked like it should be flowing down her back and cascading over her shoulders. Instead it was choppy around her face in uneven clumps. It wasn’t a very flattering hairstyle for her, but she didn’t care.

Her clothing was tarnished and torn, but it covered her and kept her from having too many people looking at her strangely. They had just assumed that she was another homeless person or a drug addict. They didn’t know who she was and as long as she didn’t brush up against them, they didn’t care where she was going.

Her shoes had holes in them and her gloves were missing their fingertips. She had no hat, scarf and no coat, but she didn’t mind. She wasn’t cold.

No, that wasn’t completely true.

She was cold. She was always cold, but having any kind of warmer gear or garments would change that. She would always be cold.

She glanced down at the blurry reflection in the puddle below her.

Her other half was gone, she would never be warm again.

But that was all right, she told herself desperately. It was the only way. It had to be.

She wasn’t sure she could live with herself if she ever discovered that she had made things worse by sending the other half of her soul away.


Written for today’s Daily Post: https://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/01/22/daily-prompt-mirrored/