Saturday 13 May 2017

A face without a name? Oh no, this woman has a name.

It's not often I get on my high horse, because that would be somewhat hilarious given my background and behaviour BUT there are some things that push my buttons and I have to get a little shouty about.

For a few weeks now, I have been reading threads and posts on a local forum on Facebook about a down and out lady who has been frequenting the streets of the village I live in.

I have read everything from stories of pissing in the street, to spitting in peoples faces, swearing at innocent children, pregnant ladies, the whole sha-bang.
I have read articles about this womans past, a string of convictions that make mine seem like a drop in the ocean.
I have read about how she is a blight, an eye-sore, a very visible problem that people just don't want to look at or deal with.

There is no escaping the fact the woman has lead a violent and destructive life and wages misery upon innocent people. and for that, there is no excuse or mitigation; but she is a victim too and no-one seems to be talking about that.

Today, having read the latest hate speeches on social media about this person, I got so angry, I ransacked my house for jumpers, and socks, and sanitary items, and practical things, facewipes, deodrant, food, a towel and marched down the hill to find the lady in question.
Thanks to the busy bodies of the village, and their eagle eyed photography, I already knew where to find this woman as there seemed to be minute by minute updates about her movements through the village to make sure every person who resides here knew there was an unfortunate soul roaming the streets.

Well, there she was. Sat amongst her plastic bags and blankets, in a puffer jacket, zipped up to the top, looking dirty, sad and cold.
Walking right up to her, I said "we've brought you some bits and bobs, have you had any lunch?"
She replies "no"
"Do you want to go and get a bite to eat then?"
The woman lept off the step from where she was tucked away and bundled her bags into her hands, she let me and a friend carry her blankets and off we went.

"Whats your name?"
"Becky,"
"It's nice to meet you Becky, I'm Fran,"
"Hi Fran, thank you,"

We sit at a table tucked away in the warm, perusing the menu, she has a read of a magazine thats on the table, I ask her what shes reading and she says "Steely Dan" pointing at an advert for a concert.
"I like them,"
She carries on flicking through the magazine, looking a little dazzed by the whole experience. People are looking, of course they are.
She see's them looking and focuses on her magazine, licking her fingers and brushing her hair behind her ears. She's smartening herself up a little. She stands up, ties her hair back in bobble, I ask her if she feels better now, she does.

A monster hot chocolate arrives, marshmellows and all.
Shes picking them out one by one like a little girl, she stacks them to one side, then goes back to eat them as and when.
My friend orders the same, we are the hot chocolate gang in the corner, and its a perfectly lovely way to spend a Saturday.

I don't know who the monster of the streets people have been talking about, but its not the woman covered in hot chocolate sat at the table with me.

A delicious bowl of tomato soup turns up, I'm sure the portion size is overly generous because the lady who runs it has a heart of gold. She digs in, demolishing the bread in seconds - good girl!
I ask her if she has somewhere to stay that night, she tells me she does, but her appearance says otherwise. I don't push the issue, shes guarded - quite rightly. Suspicious of a strangers questions.
I was that way too when I was a street rat.
Trust no-one. Always assume somebody wants something from you. Nothing is free.
I ask her if she needs anything, she tells me she needs money.
I say no, that I will help with necessities but I won't give her any money.
She takes it well, no anger, no animosity.
Carries on with her soup.

All in all, I have a lovely little lunch, a panini and coffee with a friend and a woman I don't know. It's not how I usually spend my Saturday's but it is worth every penny and every second of my time.
What costs me a few pounds, gives this woman a sense of humanity, decency, dare I say, hope.

We make a plan to meet again, at the spot where I found her, that I will take her for some food and a chat the following week.
I hope she keeps our meeting.
I think she will. Delusional, optimistic. I don't know.

I watch people watching her, sat on her step, surrounded by bags, a little warmer and fuller than when I saw her a few hours before.
Such distaste. People either look at her, or look through her. I don't know which is worse.

So here is the woman who robbed an old lady. Abhorent, no doubt.
Who has conviction aplenty and a drug habit that must have stolen several decades.

She is someones daughter. She is someones friend. She had a life before mental illness and drug addiction took over.
She is a human being who has made some awful choices, choices she probably didn't know were the only ones she had.

When I approached her, she was quiet, suspicious but glad of the conversation.
She came with me willingly for lunch and she let me carry some of her prized possesions.
A first flicker of trust.

I don't understand how we can live our lives avoiding the difficult, the awkward, the inconvenient.
Pretending the invisible don't exist. Because its easier. Because we all have our own problems and taking on someone elses seems unnecessary.

I don't have money to give, not a penny, I have money worries, I have my own crazy ass mental health issues to battle, my drug addiction dead and buried, but I have time, I have ears, I have heart.

The only way to make a real change to the homeless crisis that is plaguing our country is to do something.
Even if it is a cup of coffee, a kind word, a phone call to a hostel on someones behalf, a bag of clothes, a bag of food.
When I was nobody, and I was invisible, just a smile and not a scowl would make me feel human again.
Kindness costs nothing.
We need to do more.

I'm sure the social media thread will be full again by the time I finish writing this, and that this woman BECKY will have offended some good citizen.
I'm not giving up on the Becky's.

If you see this woman in Littleborough and you want to help
https://www.petrus.org.uk/petrus_women.php

Great homeless charities making change on the ground :-

http://www.mustardtree.org.uk/
http://streetskitchen.co.uk/manchester/
https://www.facebook.com/Homeless-Project-Manchester-198156730610289/



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