The storm was approaching as I watched the dark clouds roll in. The wind picked up and I clutched the plastic bag with bread and potato salad closer to me. I glanced around the park trying to find a few singled out gypsies. Gypsies, well, not all of them are but that’s what I call them. They range from homeless, to refugees, to druggies, to gypsies. The park we are at is filled with gypsies because they have no where else to go.
I glance over my shoulder as Lindsey spots two people on a park bench – a black man with one crutch and a thin white woman. Both look to be in their upper 40s. Lindsey holds her flowers and Sarah joins us as we approach this duo.
At first glance you can tell they have been doing drugs. I can see the dirt on their skin and the look of lost hope in their eyes. I can’t tell when their clothes were last washed. Lindsey tries to hand them a sunflower, trying to brighten their day. But they don’t want it. The woman is clearly angry and upset. She questions why we are here. Who has sent us to them. Why are we trying to give her a flower. I shyly try to hide my bag of food behind my back so they don’t question me as well.
“We just want to brighten your day and let you know that you are loved by Jesus,” Lindsey explains to them. The woman still is not having it but the man accepts the flower. He yells at the woman and tells her to be nice because we are just young people. He assumed Lindsey, Sarah, and I were 15, 16, and 17 years old.
Their confusion for our presence at the park lessons as we begin to talk. They share their frustrations with organizations that have come and left and not brought any change to their life. They are confused as to why the government does not want to help them. They feel lost.
The more they open up, the softer they become. The woman continues to share more of her story to Lindsey and Sarah while I talk to the gentleman. He tried to make me guess which country he was from. He told me Greece, Germany, Barbados, and Tunisia. He thought it was funny he could say any country and could get away with it. “Do I look like I’m from Germany??” He would question me as he laughed and pointed to his black skin. He was 52. He had been a mechanic, fixing boat engines. But then he got in an accident that messed up his leg. I’m still unsure of how he got to Greece, but now his life was nothing like it once had been.
As we talked he shook the hands of other gypsies who were passing through the park. Small drug deals going down. He pulled out his clear pipe and emptied the contents of what he had been given into the bulb of the pipe. The woman was still talking wildly with her hands and absently holding the lighter. The man patiently waited for her to calm her hands long enough for him to grab the lighter and use the flame to heat the bulb of the pipe. I continued to ask him more about his life as he smoked the drug. He asked what we call crystal meth in America. I told him it carried the same name.
He is a Muslim. She believes in 12 gods and has 12 stars tattooed on her arm to represent that. Both were open to talking about Jesus but claimed they already believed in Him. I glanced to the woman as she continued talking to Lindsey. She began to dig in her purse and pulled out paper and more drugs to roll and smoke. Such a casual encounter as they both did the drugs they had with them and continued pouring their life stories, hurts, and pains out to us.
After there was nothing left to be said, we decided it was time to go as I could feel the raindrops slowly falling on my head. We were able to leave behind another flower for the woman. “Would it be okay if I gave you some food?” I asked as well. They received it with open arms.
As we walked away the smile on their faces was unmistakable. When we first approached they were upset and not wanting to talk or accept anything from us. But after spending 15 minutes hearing their stories and just being a listening ear, we walked away from two grateful people.
But now what? Their drug addiction is real. The loss of motivation for life is real. Their loss of home and possessions because of their addiction is real. Jesus is also real. They may not believe in Him yet, but I pray that through that small encounter we were able to show them the love of Jesus.
Please pray for the homeless, refugees, and gypsies here in Greece. They have no home, no where to go. It is no wonder they fall into the path of drugs – it takes away their pain and their hunger. Please join me in prayer as I plead with God to help all of the people who need a home. All of the people who have gotten caught up in this life. There is so much more out there for them. Please pray that God will send more people to their rescue!
