Mirror, Mirror

My guest bathroom is tiny and dark, so I've chosen to hang assorted mirrors around it. Today I've had two "mirror" experiences.

I've read and heard that this social networking stuff is replacing e-mail in a bad way, but Facebook amazes me again.

Today I found this posted by Margaret: Facebook Experiment: If you are reading this, even if we don't speak often, post a comment with a memory of you and me. When you've finished, post this paragraph on your own status and you'll be surprised at what people remember about you.

And people actually responded! So far a few poodle people who remember my struggles with my dogs; someone I grew up with remembers family; Wendy remembers playing with puppy Persi on the gold course; a former student remembers a comment I made. How cool is that?

Today I also took my turn volunteering as a cashier at the Bargain Box, a thrift store operated by the Assistance League. That's an experience in itself, but what was of special note to me was that today I saw Cherokee. Cherokee is someone I used to call "street girl." She's a street person who I first noticed in the university area when I was going to graduate school in the mid 90's. I noticed her 1) because she was a woman, and 2) because she seemed close to my age. Seeing her made me grateful, and sad.

Over the years I've kept an eye out for Cherokee. I've given her money, and tried to give her money that she refused. I've noticed her with only a blanket and a pair of walking shoes, with missing teeth and bruises. I hadn't seen her for a long time and wondered if she was still alive.

Cherokee, dressed in an odd assortment of clothes, some kind of wrap around footwear that was hanging in tatters, and her several plastic bags bulging came in, probably to cool off, and look around. She smelled of honey and body odors. She eventually bought a red stretch velour skirt and top, pulled out a wad of money to pay her $10, stuffed it into a tearing plastic bag, and went on her way.

I was delighted to see her and to know she was alive and a survivor. Why a mirror? Because if not for family support and a number of other things, I could be her, or worse, not a survivor. She reminds me how life takes lucky turns for some of us, and to be aware and supportive of those who don't get those opportunities. There but for the grace of G-d...

Mirror, mirror on the wall

Who's the fairest of them all?