The River Bed.

I had twenty minutes left on my shift, and I could not wait to go home. It was my third week working at the local starbucks. We lived in a tourist town, so we saw people from all over the world, but only one woman seemed to stand out to me.

She definitely stood out to everyone else in her baggy, ripped clothes, tattered shoes and unwashed hair. She was clearly homeless, and everyone else only seemed to see her as a nuisance when she came in every day and asked for a cup of water. But me? I saw something more. I saw a human being and there was a hurt in her eyes that I felt but didn't understand why.

No one else I worked with acknowledged her or ever even asked her for her name for her cup. They just referred to her as 'the homeless lady.'

She came up to the counter and asked for her usual cup of water, and I told her no. She looked at me puzzled and asked why. I asked her if she could have anything what it would be. She said, "I haven't had a cup of normal coffee in years."

Years?! I couldn't got 45 minutes without a coffee, it made me sad to realize how much I take such a little thing for granted. I handed her a cup of coffee, and asked her what she wanted to eat. She looked at me very confused again explained that she hadn't any money, and just wanted a cup of water. I looked at her and told her not to worry and it was on me. She burst into tears and just kept saying thank you over and over. I let her pick her food and told her I was finished with my shift in about 15 minutes if she wanted to sit inside, I would eat with her.

Everyone I was on shift with was upset with me for buying her a coffee and sandwich. Saying that its "people like me" who enable her from getting a "damn job" and working for the same things we have to work for. I didn't understand why people always had that perception about homeless people. It's not always their fault, and I was definitely going to learn that even more so soon.

When I sat down next to her, everyone looked at me in disgust and I just turned away. I asked her what her name was and she told me it was Mary. She told me I didn't have to sit with her, but I wanted to. She was a human being just like me, and I know what it feels like to be lonely and misunderstood. We ate together and she explained to me that she lived just down the road on the river bed. She mostly asked about me that day and I felt like she was genuinely just wanting to learn more about someone who treated her with kindness. She had no one. She needed a friend, and I was happy to be that person.

For the next two weeks, every time I was on shift and saw her, I bought her a coffee and whatever she wanted to eat. The weirdest thing was, she didn't expect it and cried tears of thanks every time. She was grateful.

Another day when I had finished my shift, she was still sitting there all alone reading a weathered book, jotting in a little notepad. I sat down with her and asked her what she was reading. She was learning hebrew. She said it was one thing she always wanted to do and had saved up for months just to get this book that taught you hebrew.

I was fascinated by her. I just sat and watched her learn and write for hours that day. Just when I was about to leave, I felt compelled to ask her a very personal question, and was worried I would offend her, but I couldn't stop myself.

"Mary, can I ask you something?."

"Of course you can," she replied.

I told her she didn't have to answer if it made her uncomfortable but I wanted to know why she was homeless. It didn't make sense to me. She very clearly was not on drugs or drinking alcohol, she could hold a conversation... she was very clever.

She said to me, "Sweetheart, no one ever asks about me, it's not a fascinating story by any means, but I will tell you if you are really interested."

I nodded my head as she began to tell me what had happened. I remember feeling the tears well up in my eyes as she told me. There was no way this woman could make it up. It was true, and I could see it in her eyes.

She had been homeless for 5 years. She had been married before she became homeless. Her ex-husband was a police officer in the town she used to live in. He beat her for years. She suffered a physical disability from it and was left unable to work. The courts wouldn't touch her husband with a ten foot pole let alone make him pay for what he did.

After they divorced she was deemed financially unstable and unable to take care of her teenage son. Her husband got custody of her son and left her in the house until it was taken back by the bank. She was forced to live on the streets. She didn't have a phone, no way to contact anyone, and no one to contact even if she did. She was just on her own. The state we lived in wouldn't grant her disability because of the house being taken back by the bank and her not having medical insurance and not being able to provide hard medical proof of her disability.

This infuriated me, and as I walked home that night I couldn't help but worry about her, all alone, in such a big, scary world that had mistreated her. I couldn't understand how she could be so positive and happy all the time.

The next day, I wasn't meant to work, but I walked down to see if she was there and I spotted her sat on the corner with her cup of water. She saw me and smiled and said hello to me and asked what time I was working until.

I told her, " I'm not working, I came to see you. Do you want to do something today?"

"You don't have to do this just because feel sorry for me," she replied.

"Don't be silly, you're really funny and I want to do something today, so lets go to the beach."

I bought us each a 40 of beer and we sat on the beach for a couple hours talking further about her son. She told me she had no idea where he was and that he wouldn't know how to find her either. I asked what his name was and she told me.

I went home that night and found him on facebook. He was all grown up now, only lived an hour away. He explained to me that he never knew where his mom had ended up and had no way of finding her. His dad had passed away. He also, was all alone in the world.

The next day, I showed up to work and told her to come back in a few hours when I got off and to bring all of her blankets, clothes, etc. When I got off work, there she was.

"Come on Mary."

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"To do your laundry, I have tons of change I need to use up."

She hadn't had clean clothes in weeks. We went to the laundrette and when we finished, she asked me if I wanted to see where she lived. I genuinely didn't want to see it, because I knew it would break my heart to see the state of the place she was living in but it was the only thing she had to be proud of, so I went.

We walked about a half mile down to the river bed and through the bushes where she had her tent that was all patched up with tape.

"Home sweet home," she said as she looked at me and smiled.

I sat in that tent with her for hours laughing and telling stories and blossoming this beautiful friendship we had created. I didn't mind being in there, and she seemed to be comfortable enough, but I knew that's no way for anyone to live.

I was going away on vacation for 4 days and told her to be there to meet me the day I got back. I thought she might have forgotten, but she was there.

We went into the cafe and ordered lunch. I've never seen someone love a grilled cheese sandwich that much. It warmed my heart to see her smile.

We finished lunch and as we walked outside, I said, "Oh, who is that?"

She looked at me and jumped into my arms and started screaming and crying.

"I can't believe this. How? I don't understand... what is happening?!"

"Well, go say hello then," I replied.

"Hi mom," he said.

We threw her tent away that night. She moved in with her son and rebuilt her life.

She told me I saved her life, but I wish she knew that she was the one who saved mine.