![]() Craiglist Elf Experiment Update: I spent much of the last two days Craigslist Elfing- posting and responding to Craigslist emails, getting help from Santa friends, and assuring Wellsfargo that yes, I really was going to Walmart, and Walmart online, that many times, so please unlock my card. The Craigslist Elf Experiment this year got big enough to even require a spreadsheet to track everything. This Elfing thing is no joke! Here are a few favorite vignettes from being an Elf. Yes, it's verbose. Enjoy! ~ What I was first impressed with about John* was his ability to do mental math. I had been walking around Walmart chatting with his wife and corralling his two cute and wild kids- 5 year old and 3 year old boys- when I realized we were already arriving at the cash register. "Is that all?" I asked, looking at the cart, half full of diapers and kiddo clothes. "It's about $94 right now," he said. I was impressed with his tracking. I had been focused on his wife, who had been opening up about how hard it was right now- their precocious 5 year old had nephrotic syndrome, an uncurable kidney disease, and she took care of him. John had moved back from a good job in Tennesee, but had been out of work, though hoping to start a new job soon. They were living in their car and motels. "Did you guys get anything for yourself?" I asked them. They hadn't. "Let's go back, then. It's ok if it goes over for this. What would be helpful? Underwear, bras, clothes, shampoo..." I began to rattle off items and saw his wife's eyes light up. We walked back through the store. "Is it ok if we get different shampoos and conditioners?" she asked hopefully. "Of course," I said, and I joked about how I always open the shampoo or conditioner bottle while in the aisle, just to smell them. I could tell by how she carefully chose a few personal supplies for her and her beloved husband that this small thing meant so much. ~ Murph, as he told me he was called in his younger years, was a kind faced 51 year old African American man. He shared stories of playing basketball in college, dunking and people calling out "Murph! Murph!" from the stands. But the basketball scholarship didn't end up working out, and he ended up in the military for 4 years, and then on the streets, battling addiction and alcoholism for some years before getting his life back together. His message to the Craiglist post started with "Good day! Maybe karma is on my side as I literally just gave my last 3 dollars to a guy standing on the corner." You can probably guess I was a little hooked, just by the first line. The email went on to share about how he is waiting to start his new job in January, as he just came back to Austin to help his 78 year old father who is the primary caregiver for 93 year old grandmother, who is battling dementia. When we first talked on the phone and were working out the details about meeting, he shared, "I just can't stop smiling. I just saw my reflection and I have a huge smile on my face. I can't believe this is happening." As we wandered through Walmart, he told me he is just 5 credits away from graduating - I was never good a math, he said, or foreign language- before he can become an addiction counselor and help people who are living on the streets who are still fighting a battle he knows so well. Murphy used his Craigslist Elf money to buy his father new socks, so his father wouldn't have to keep wearing his. He asked if it was ok if he bought himself a watch, I said it's your money now, and he picked out a simple men's watch for $8.88. The rest of the Elf money went to buying a new shirt for his new job, a phone card to keep his phone on, some gas for his car, and a small and simple Christmas gift for each of his family members (a hopeful lottery ticket for each one). And at the end of our Walmart trip, he gave me a big hug, and asked if I would come to his college graduation, in the Spring of 2021. We're all invited, sweet Santa friends, by the way. ~ Elena* and her husband and I ended up at Target later in the evening, having found out the hard way that Walmart closes at 6pm on Christmas Eve. She was my last in-person Elf stop of the day (though Elfing continued until close to midnight). Elena's sister Mariana was actually the one who emailed me from Craiglist. Having 2 sisters myself, I was so moved by Mariana emailing to see if someone could help her sister get presents for her kids, that I was excited to meet Elena in person. And to tell her how much her sister Mariana loves her. After Mariana and I had talked, she called her sister Elena, insisting that she message me immediately. "This is real, I talked to her and she is nice," Elena recounted what her sister told her about our call, admitting to her skepticism on whether someone was really just giving away money for gifts and necessities on Craigslist. "I know it sounds crazy," I agreed. "I did this on a whim 2 years ago and just loved it. I am able to be with you now because over a dozen of my amazing friends wanted to help, too, when they heard about this crazy idea. It's because of their generosity." We walked through Target and talked about her job as a call center rep and about her family- she has 7 siblings!- and growing up in Mexico, as she picked out a present for each of her four children before sharing she was done. "What about for you two?" I asked. "Oh, we don't want anything," she shook her head, glancing at her husband who agreed. "Well, this is my game, and I make the rules," I joked in broken spanish, which got a smile from her husband, slightly surprised. "I insist." They gave in. In the end, she got a new bra and he got a new shirt. And, as we walked to the cash registers at the front, I asked if she wanted to get something for her sister, Mariana. "My treat, it's ok if it goes over. We wouldn't be here without her." ~~ All in all, Santa friends, we reached over a dozen families yesterday, touching people from Killeen down to San Marcos and all over town. We helped concerned neighbors help the neighborhood kids to get gifts for Christmas. We helped parents who were rebuilding their lives after rehab, after losing their jobs, after tragic medical diagnoses for themselves and their children, after giving what they had to others and having nothing left- we helped them get pajamas and presents, personal hygiene supplies and needed groceries, and much more. Mostly, and most importantly, I think, we helped some people (myself included) believe in the magic and the good of being human again, and again, and again. Extra, extra, extra special thank you to the unbelievable generosity of my Santa Friends: Sam, Jay, Joi, Sara, Machin, Julie, Cassi, Kacy, Laura, Allegra, Gus, Amelia, Elizabeth, and my Mama Susan. You make the world a better place in 1000 different ways and I am so grateful to know you. (*after reflection, I changed the names, except for Murph's who said he was happy if I share about this)
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A rush hour reminder:
I was driving to a client meeting and while sitting at a stoplight, heard someone honk suddenly. Quickly I realized it was a car trying to pull in behind me from a parking lot and drive around. I heard someone mumble "bitch" from the car, as I watched the man in the front seat throw his hands up angrily at me. Everyone and everything in the car looked disheveled- a disarray of belongings in the back seat, skin tanned by too much sun, homeless, perhaps, or very close. I moved my car up the maybe 5 inches I had available, and they drove around and then were stopped next to me at the light. I locked eyes with the guy in the front seat, and he looked at me menacingly, clearly expecting more drama and perhaps a shouting match for my crime of not pulling up enough. I rolled down the window. “I'm sorry,” I told him, shrugging gently. He stopped immediately. “I'm sorry too,” he said, “I've had a bad day.” “I'm sorry,” I said again, and blew him a kiss playfully, and he smiled a mostly toothless grin and blew one back and lifted up his hands to make the shape of a heart with them. "It's rough out there," I said. "Yes, sometimes I just want to..." and he made a gun sign with his hands and shot his head. "Oh, don't do that. I'm sorry. I hope your day gets better," I said and he smiled again and that was that. ![]() I cried when I reached the top of the mountain.** We had started our hike that morning at 3am, under the huge expanse of a clear, cold, and starry Colorado sky. Really, though, we had started 6 years before, a thrown together group of pre-teens and wannabe (I say that lovingly) mentors, in the HOT summer sun of Texas. On that initial Summer Wilderness Trip- notoriously known as the *hardest* one we ever did, for more stories than I'll share right now- the longest we hiked as a group was 2 (brutal) miles. Now, it was in the heat of the Texas summer sun, and it was with full packs on, but the fact is- it was 2 miles. On this particular Thursday morning, we were waking up -dark and early- to complete a 6 mile hike that would take us across creeks in the dark, up snow patches with ice axes and gaiters, over countless rock boulders, and to the top of a mountain, to come back around a valley, and back to camp again. And if we were lucky- all before the afternoon storms were to come in. (I love nighttime walks, and was *really* excited.) It probably won't come as any surprise that I generally like to take the unofficial place as the "caboose" during most of our activities. This is both practical and meaningful. First- never have I ever been accused of being a fast walker. And, more importantly, I find the conversations with the girls who also find themselves at the end- the ones who struggle, or doubt themselves, or question their choice to even be there- to be the kind of rich and real talk that I learn from and love the most. "But really," one of the girls – who was also hiking at the back with me- said, "I don't even know why we hike mountains. Like, why even do this." This girl was one of my favorites. I believe you meet people of your "soul tribe" in so many places through out your life, and this girl was definitely in mine. Unlike me, however, she was *NOT* enjoying the journey this morning. She was terrified of heights and was hurting physically. While she was generally one of the most upbeat and positive in the group, when it came to heights, she was at her edge, literally and figuratively. She had even talked to each mentor separately the days leading up to this hike, mentioning that she didn't think she would be able to do it. However, once you are on a mountain, there isn't really a place you can easily just get off of it. No elevators, escalators, or teleporters on this one, sadly. And my teenage friend was not particularly pleased with that. "I kinda didn't even really want to come this year, but my mom told me I had to.” She continued on like this, as we continued to hike and climb, despite all her resistance and near insistence she couldn’t keep going. And, as we climbed up the trail and over the boulders, we discovered another important truth: You can hike any far and seemingly impossible distance in 10 step increments. Every time your right foot hits the ground, you get to count. One, two, three, four.... When you reach 10, you get to stop. For a moment, at least. And, then it's time to keep going. The count begins, again. I don't actually know how many times we counted to 10, but it was a lot. Sometimes, when the path evened out, we'd just walk and stop counting, and when it got harder, we'd start again. Miraculously, and after countless counts of 10, the top of the mountain came to us. Or, us to it. Either way, we got there- our whole group was together again at the top of the summit. As we reached the top, another girl who had been just a few paces ahead hugged a mentor and started to cry. It was incredible, to see these girls have these emotional moments because of the physical feats they undertook and the natural beauty around them. Then, all of a sudden, I was crying. We had reached the summit of a mountain together, and the summit of 6 years of growing, laughing, hairbraiding, adventuring, hurting, challenging, and learning together. And I knew in just a short while, we'd back down the mountain and heading home, again. “This will be a memory too soon,” I thought. ~ After a few more hours of hiking down the mountain, I was happy to find myself on the final stretch of trail with my young straggler friend again. I pointed at the mountain that now seemed far away and so high up. I traced in the air the path we had taken that morning, once again it looked like incredible feat: up a wall of snow, across the ridge, to a peak far away, and back down again. "Can you believe you did that?" I asked. "You asked me why we climb mountains. We climb mountains to learn about who we are. And who we can become, because of them." Not going to lie- I still don't think she was buying it. Later, in our closing circle a new truth finally was ready. An Appreciation game called “Spotlight” had become an important part of our closing circle every year. (One guess on who came up with the idea of everyone appreciating everyone else….). It is moving beyond words to see young women share with full hearts about how proud they are of each other. During her time in the spotlight, my previously struggling young friend thanked the mentors and trip leaders for all their support, even when she resisted. “The top of the mountain was the most beautiful thing I’ve seen,” she said. And later still, as our van pulled up to the airport and we were about to begin the last leg of our last trip home, I heard her say to herself and no one in particular a new truth that was just waiting to be seen: "I'd rather climb another mountain, then have it all be over and be going home.” My Birthday Reminder. eg: The universe is speaking…
(Honestly, I’m a little embarrassed to share parts of this, but am going for it anyways.) So, it’s 8 something in the morning on my birthday, and I’m rushing to run errands, and run literally, before the monthly Backyard Brunch Club that I host begins at my house in a few short hours. It’s already been a hectic morning, emotional weekend, and a hell of a full moon week (yep, I believe in lunar cycles). As I’m driving, I notice that the tank is already on empty -which seems energetically fitting-, so I add to my mental to do list to stop by the gas station on my way to the trail. There’s always just one more thing, right? My car, however, makes other plans. I turn onto South First – mere blocks from my house, my running shoes, my really good plans to fill up the gas tank- and my car starts to come to halt. “Oh shit.” I think to myself. “Not now.” I’m able to coax her off the road and begin to make a turn into a basically deserted parking lot of a small strip mall (it its barely past 8 on a Sunday, by the way) before the car completely comes to a stop. “Oh shit.” I think to myself, again. “Not now.” I begin to not-so-silently freak out. I’m blocking the entrance to the parking lot, not fully off the road and not able to do anything about it. An older African American gentleman walks up and taps on my window. “You know it’s not safe to be stopped right here?” he asks. “Put it in neutral, I’m going to push your car out of the way.” He backs up against my trunk, heaves his weight, and together we slowly get my car to a legitimate parking spot in the parking lot. He comes back to my window. “Thank you so much….This never happens…It’s my birthday…” I start to tear up and stumble over words, distraught and stressed and upset and more than a little judging myself for letting this happen. “God will put people in your path when you need them,” he matter of factly replies. “God is good.” His gentle reminder makes me start to cry. I had no idea it was exactly what I needed to hear. He tells me his name is Hank, lets me know I’m in luck, that there’s a gas station nearby, and wishes me a happy birthday- and reminds me again that God is Good- before continuing off to, I believe, manage the nearby Golden Chick. I spent the whole day turning his words over and over again in my head. I shared them at Brunch Club with a few friends- and watched several of my friends’ eyes well up with the Universe’s reminder that was for them, too. So this was my beautiful birthday reminder. Use whichever word of your choosing: God/Universe/Nature/The Flying Spaghetti Monster is good, and will put people in your path to help you when you need it. Thanks for all the birthday love, my friends. I am going to savor, read and respond to every birthday wish, because you all made me feel so loved. |
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