The Least of These

I don't get serious very often, particularly not here on this website. I don't know why, but whenever a serious and deep conversation sparks up, I'm only good for a few minutes before my dumb brain takes a sharp right turn into absolute left field.

I guess I just feel like life itself can be so rough. I don't want to focus on that. I don't want to ignore it either, but if I have the choice between laughing and sober mourning, I'm gonna open up the chuckle jar and help myself.

Today, I'm being serious. As serious as I'm able to make myself be, that is. I apologize in advance if this isn't your cup of tea and will understand if you need to sit this one out.

It all starts with a crazy experience I had last week...

As some of you know, I'm a teacher. I teach English, but I also teach Physical Education. Last week, I took my class outside to play "Capture the Flag" in the woods behind our school (it's a wooded area that is actually on our school's property).

We'd been outside for about 20 minutes, when I hear some ruckus coming from a section of the woods. Several of my students were running toward me, looking very excited.

Apparently, in the middle of their game, a homeless woman had wandered into the woods and laid down right where they were playing. One of my students approached her and asked her what she was doing (which I reproached him for later).

Her response, according to the student, was: "You guys need to get away from me. I can't be around minors. I've had trouble with minors in the past."

Red flag.

So, I responded to stimuli, out of concern for my students, and I did something I probably shouldn't have (in retrospect): I entered the woods.

What I saw looked like something from a horror film. I saw a woman, laying face down on the ground with her hair coming forward and covering her entire face and head. She was completely motionless, almost as if she was hiding...or worse...dead.

I could have just walked away and told someone else, but I'm a grown man, right? It would have been no less inconvenient for my principal to deal with it than it was for me. So, I stepped forward and approached her.

I said, "Ma'am? Excuse me? I'm sorry but you're going to have to leave. This is private property."

I said it as gently as possible, not knowing exactly what I was dealing with, plus, honestly, I felt bad for her and I wasn't trying to be a jerk.

It was right then at that moment that she slowly raised her face, which was covered in dirt. She was not happy. I'd disturbed her. She was mad and had every intention of letting me know about it.

"I know this is private property! EVERYWHERE is private property! I can't go anywhere! You people need to stop doing this! You've got to stop following me around! You need to either leave me alone or give me an address and let me stay there!"

At this point, she started to get up. It was clear she was not in a right frame of mind. I wasn't dealing with someone who was playing by the same rules or who even had all the cards. I slowly backed away, apologized for bothering her and exited the woods.

I wasn't going to talk her down and I had no idea what she was capable of. I love my wife. She deserves better than me being shanked in the middle of a "Capture the Flag" game in the woods by a delusional homeless woman.

That said, I also couldn't just let it go. These woods are directly behind our school. Based on my encounter with her, there was no reason to believe she wasn't at least potentially dangerous.

So I called the police.

When they arrived, they asked me a few questions, cautiously went into the woods, spoke with her for a few minutes and eventually she was on her way.

Apparently, they've dealt with her many times. She's a paranoid schizophrenic who believes that the government is after her, looking to extort money from her.

Your kneejerk reaction is probably to laugh at that, at least a little. I don't blame you. It's crazy. It's kind of funny, but largely in an uncomfortable way.

I'll wrap this up.

I believe I did the right thing, for the most part. But what if I didn't? That's somebody's daughter. It might even be somebody's mom! What if I hadn't been in such a hurry to get rid of her? What if I had just sat down and tried to have a conversation and show her love?

I think Jesus would have done that. It makes me sad how little I am like Jesus sometimes. I want to be comfortable. I want to have good things and give good things to those that love me. I go home, close the door and lock it behind me, enjoy the food and warmth inside my home and then go to bed under my nice warm covers -- never giving a second thought to the countless number of homeless men and women who are sleeping under the stars in boxes, ditches...and in the woods.

Have you ever had an experience like this one? How did you handle it?