“Alice in wonderland" thought she had an adventure? She should undertake this one. Unlike Dorothy in "The Wizard of Oz," I did not meet any scarecrows, tin men, or wizards, but I sure met some other interesting characters. On second thoughts, I came across a “tin man” or two, at least two organizations without hearts. Are organizations even supposed to have hearts? My encounter with them effectively began this current journey, although they are not part of the recent events. One is out of business. For now, they shall remain nameless, in order to protect the guilty. See, I am already learning the “new reality” – malfeasants are the new “victims.” That is a whole other topic for another article.

Journeying from Part I and Part II, we continue with more inspiring stories, with the story of Noel J. As mentioned in Part II, Noel made the journey from Trinidad to West Hills California. I met Noel when he visited the sober living house, after being a tenant there. He too had no drug or alcohol issues but needed a place to live. I am finding out that sober living could indeed be for anyone. 

Noel shared his story, and showed me the newspaper and other clippings of his accomplishments. He once spearheaded a painting job on Canoga High School, thereby saving the school administration, or whoever is in charge of maintenance of school buildings, almost one million dollars. He contributed his labor, solicited contributions of paint from some local businesses, and volunteer help with the project. Noel has worked for the airlines, as a security guard, in car detailing, etc. etc.

Noel’s dad became ill in Trinidad, with Alzheimer’s Disease. Noel returned there, and spent 15 months caring for his father. When his dad passed away, Noel returned to the US. He didn’t know where he would be staying. A friend of 30 years took him in, and helped him. He didn’t want to overstay his welcome, so he left after a month. He headed for Watts, not knowing what it would be like. He sent out 6 to 8 resumes daily. After seeing conditions in Watts, he knew that he was in the wrong neighborhood. He moved to Reseda to a sober living house. There were drugs there, so he knew that he had to leave. He left after a month and found another sober living house, sharing a room, but in a much nicer neighborhood.

What Noel did not realize is that he returned to the US, just in time to be faced with the recession or whatever means that companies were shedding US jobs, and employees were on the losing end. Noel did not know that poverty had invaded the "idyllic suburbs." He did not know the 15 shocking facts about poverty in America. Had Noel stopped to consider all of the stats and facts, he would probably have never allowed his faith in God, to guide his steps.

Noel found himself a church and a church family, through a friend who invited him to go to church. After visiting twice, he became a member, and the following week, he became a greeter. He loves it there. He decided to turn to God and “do it right this time.” He began giving 10%, and attending Bible Study three times per week.

Then the good things began happening. Noel found another place with one roommate. He now had a bedroom to himself, with one teensy problem – no furniture. Noel prayed to God for further help. In one week, Noel had a bed, dishes, utensils, a car and a job. “Had” meaning that except for the job, for which he went through the rigorous application process, all other items were donated. Yep, a lot of “ugly” Americans opened their hearts and wallets to Noel. Ironically, about a day or so before the news of the job and car, Noel had been having a down moment, actually down hours. He began questioning what next he should do to find a job. He had applied everywhere, jumped through all of the hoops, and nothing.

God answered. Noel was so grateful for the assistance that he received, that he has vowed to continually help others. As his time allows, between his working hours, he is going to be offering rides and relocation services to those in his church and the wider community. He is offering the services to church members for free, and to the general public at a very low cost. I get the impression that Noel’s church is what a church should be – to “rescue the perishing, care for the dying.”  

I could have almost named this article the tale of “Noel J. and Daniel P. Jr.” Daniel P. Sr., whose story was shared in Part II, introduced me to his five year old son Daniel Jr., and I think that the pleasure was all mine. As I do with male kids, I began my shtick about guys always having long eyelashes – which they do, and that I did not like Jr. because of that. I later amended my statement to declare that I was making an exception and liked Daniel Jr., despite the long lashes. Daniel Jr. declared that I was “funny.” He educated me by informing me that the blood that showed on television was really ketchup. I did not know that!

Two days later or so, I again saw both father and son. Daniel Sr. asked Jr., if he was going to say hello to Ms. Ercille. He said “hello” all right, with his eyelashes. Instead of verbally saying hello, Daniel stroked his eyelashes with his index finger. I laughed hysterically, because in all of his five-year old wisdom, he had managed to tell Ms. Christmas what he thought about her eyelash inferiority complex! I got the message – not only is Daniel Jr., the possessor of longer lashes, but he could be “smarter than a fifth grader,” and yours truly! I know that I will never forget Daniel Jr.

How is this for irony, I left the sober living house, but returned after one week. During that week, I was at a “secret, undisclosed” location. Actually it was not as exotic as all that. I was sheltered by some friends, while I continued trying to get a rental. During that week away from the sober living house, my car decided to grab some attention, and remind me of its importance in my life. It stopped running. I knew that there would have to be a choice between paying for a place to stay or get the car moving again. Hobson’s Choice does not begin to identify my dilemma. Truthfully, I began to feel really sorry for myself. Then God again intervened.

In the end it cost me under $30 for the repair. Had I not been at my “secret, undisclosed” location, that amount would have probably been tripled. As it turned out, I was among friends in another community type setting. My friend Joy introduced me to Buck, who knows about cars and their inner workings. The car is again running. Thanks Joy and Buck. The sense of community and camaraderie in that place will take another article to describe.

For awhile there, I thought that my theme song would be Like A Rolling Stone – no, not the life of a rock star. With a really ironic twist, the day that I was moving out of the house that I used to own, this same song came on the radio. I thought – “cute, rub it in.” The following lyrics were threatening to apply to me:

How does it feel
How does it feel
To be without a home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone?

When you got nothing, you got nothing to lose
You're invisible now, you got no secrets to conceal…

I even labeled myself “Job’s younger (much, much younger) sister.” But, to rework that song dedicated to Eva Peron of Argentina, my version is, “Don’t cry for me, America."

I Believe by Brooks & Dunn is more in keeping with who I am. Whoever wants to define me by the car I drive, by the bank statement, or other tangible signs of “success,” does not know me.  Those who are important to me, know who I am – “a God-fearing, family, friends and country-loving kind of gal,” my description of myself.

I think that I need to clear something up. I was never the “rich” (bitch), “with diamonds, throwing dimes at bums, gone to the finest schools,” of the “Like A Rolling Stone” song. I was, and still am, an ordinary American, trying to make sense of how life has become so twisted in a land that was so blessed by God.

In my opinion, this country is committing financial suicide, by creating an atmosphere where skilled and talented citizens are thrown out of jobs, technology and knowledge are being exported, or allowed to be stolen, and tons of unskilled and almost illiterate persons are being “imported.”

Financially, my life would immeasurably improve if I abandon the US, get out “while the going is good.”  However, running is not an option. I still feel blessed to be living here, and as I keep stressing, “it is the people, stupid.” I have met some real quality folks who have enriched my life, in the way that really counts – by their character and soul. I would not give up those friendships, for any price.  

For those who are preoccupied with “teachable moments” and “what have you learned from your experience,” here is my answer – “people are people too!” Some of us tend to treat our dogs better than our fellow human beings.

Seriously, I learned that it will be impossible for me to return to my cocoon, be that in suburbia or elsewhere. People are hurting out there. With my new-found knowledge and experience, if I can help in any way, I want to be able to. Being our brother’s (and sister’s) keeper is what this life is about. Moreover, color of skin, religious persuasion, cultural preferences, political affiliation, or even differences in earthly possessions, should never stand in the way of real brotherhood and sisterhood.

"Enforced" brotherhood, through sharing a space, can lead to mutual respect and genuine caring. Realistically, this enforced brotherhood can also lead to disdain, or dislike. The choice, as always, is up to the individuals concerned. This individual, yours truly, will take those lessons learned and/or reinforced, and turn them into action. I intend to follow through on a goal that I wrote down about a year ago – to eventually live on 25% of whatever is my incoming, and give away 75%. It is the least that I can do, in the face of the generosity, and blessings that I have received.

Oh, one last lesson I continue to learn – I need to trust God in the good times and in the bad. I have asked God to make me a blessing to others. If I am to be that blessing, then others need to see me exhibit unshakeable faith in God – in all circumstances. I wish all of my new friends and acquaintances, who are temporarily disadvantaged, mercy and grace, to help them achieve stability in the near future. I agree with Ronnie Dunn. In the end, We All Bleed Red , and we are all God’s children.

Postscript: I found a rental, and if that does not work out, I can always return to my "second home," as long as a bed is available. Your guess is correct.