I’ve had interactions with several homeless people since my time in Austin began.
While I was living at my office for a few weeks when I first moved here, I got to know a lady named Karissa for a couple of weeks. Karissa was a slightly overweight black lady, maybe in her 40s, and she had a passionate heart. You could easily picture her as a gospel singer at a charismatic gospel church.
My first interaction with her was in the parking lot where I park my car for work. I was heading to my car on a Friday night, maybe around 10 o’clock. The partyers and drunk people of 6th street were already making their rounds.
I walked up to my car and unlocked the door and Karissa stops me and asks if I’m sure I’m okay to drive. At first, I thought she was some sort of security or police. She was wearing a sort of reflective vest that made her look official.
I explained to her that I simply work on 6th street and wasn’t drinking. That I was quite alright to drive.
She said, “no problem, just wanted to check on you before you go and drive.”
I told her that I appreciated it very much and then asked her what her name was.
“Karissa. And I may be out on the streets now, but just you wait, I’m gonna have a job real soon.”
She intrigued me. She was so full of life. She was so different from most of the homeless people I run into. She had hope.
She and I talked for another hour right outside my car. I listened to her story. I let her tell me about where she came from. Why she was where she was.
She begins to talk about her kids. Three kids from three different men. She can’t see them anymore. She begins to cry. A woman who was so full of life 20 minutes ago now seems a hopeless wreck. Scared to hope again because each time she does, something is taken from her.
There didn’t seem to be anything I could say, so I simply swallowed my pride and hugged this lady who probably hadn’t showered in two months. She bursts into tears.
I won’t go into any more detail. She was a broken woman, still daring to hope that she could find a way out of her situation.
Karissa and I work together of the next few days to formulate a plan to get her a job so that she can start providing for herself again. She’s recently had an injury so she can’t do anything that requires heavy lifting.
I gave her my phone number at our first meeting and told her she could contact me at any time if she needed to.
There were several times that I got a call at 1:00 am.
“Hey Joey, this is Karissa. Could you meet me at your car? Do you have a sandwich you could bring?”
I so many times wanted to say no I couldn’t. Full transparency, I did a couple of times. I would wake up in the middle of the night to her call, she would ask me to come, I could literally almost see her, but I told her I spent the night at a friends house and that I wasn’t near the car.
I felt terrible. I was so tired. Whether it was right or wrong, my conscience bothered me.
Fast forward to about two weeks after I met Karissa. We were planning some jobs to go and apply for. I was going to start working with her on creating a resume of sorts.
I get a call at 2 in the morning.
“Hello?”
“HEY JOEY, IT’S KARISSA.”
My mind not fully working AND UNDERSTANDING THE LOUDNESS – “Who?”
“IT’S KARISSA. HEY, I DECIDED TO GO INTO THE MINISTRY. I WON’T BE ABLE TO SEE YOU AGAIN. THANKS FOR BEING MY ONE FRIEND IN AUSTIN. GOD BLESS”
“Click”
My mind didn’t fully process what had just happened, but when the morning came, I realized something…
I may never see Karissa again.