A Second Chance

We made our quarterly "guilty pleasure" run to Popeyes recently. After I placed our order -- "'Two Can Dine' Meal with mash 'n gravy and mac 'n cheese, please!" -- the woman behind the counter repeated my request, punched buttons on her cash register, accepted my payment, and gave me correct change. Seemingly normal customer service,...except that all this took place in slow motion, with earnest and deliberate movements. That's when I recognized her.

We had met a little over a year ago at a Project Homeless Connect event, an outreach effort to connect SF's homeless with various services like medical and dental care, HIV testing, housing placement, mental health exams, and welfare programs. As a Client Support volunteer, I was assigned to escort her to the various agency and non-profit booths at the Bill Graham Civic Auditorium. I can still picture her shuffling slowly beside me, her tangled hair tied back in a bun. I had tried to make conversation, but she wasn't in the mood to talk.

On this second encounter a year later, I noticed that she wore a bun again but with neatly combed hair this time. She may still have moved slowly -- a likely vestige of her past tribulation -- but I beamed at her as I thanked her, my hope in second chances renewed.