We were in our way to buy bread when I saw her laying on the sidewalk with the opening to a plastic baggie held up to her mouth as she breathed rhythmically; a deep breath in through her mouth and a slow exhale out through her nose.
She took the bag off, rolled onto her side, and repeated the process.
Deep breath in.
Slowly out.
“What is she doing?” I innocently asked.
Had it been a brown paper bag I would have thought she was fighting hyperventilation.
I was unprepared for our ministry hosts’ answer.
“She’s sniffing glue,” he responded with a sad tone in his voice.
I had heard of this , but I had never seen it, and it broke my heart on the spot. “How does someone get to this place?” I mumbled to myself.
My legs propelled me forward, but in my mind I saw nothing but this woman laying down sniffing glue.
I wish I had a beautiful story of stopping to talk and pray with this woman, but I don’t.
I walked past her to get bread and I walked past her to get home, and I didn’t stop either time.
I didn’t stop to ask her name.
I didn’t stop to ask about her life.
I didn’t stop to ask if she knows who Jesus is.
I did nothing.
The only thing I did was save a picture in my mind of her laying on the sidewalk as she sniffed glue from a plastic bag.
I’ve heard so many people say, “your race is what you make it.” You can pass lonely people on the street without stopping to flash them a smile and say hello, or you can go out of your way to shake hands with those who have dirt on their faces.
I wish I would have stopped to say hi to this woman. I wish I would have given her my time.
I didn’t pray with her then, but I get to pray for her now, and I pray that the next man or woman whose heart breaks for her actually stops in their tracks to show her that she’s not forgotten; to tell her that she’s loved; to tell her that there’s so much more than the life she is living.
And you better believe that the next time I am moved that deeply, I will do something about it.
I will give her my time, because she it worth it.
