Tuesday, March 15, 2011

"The Curse" by Andre Dubus (p. 563)

It was maybe a year ago. I was sitting at my desk doing something I can't remember on the computer. I looked out the window and saw a woman whom I'd never met walking up my drive-way. I immediately went outside to greet her and to see if there was something I could do for her. She was dirty with tear-stricken eyes. She smelled of alcohol ad had bruises on her body. I knew from my own experience what her problem was. She seemed completely confused and didn't know where she was. I brought her inside my home and offered her something to drink and my ears so that she could tell me her problems. I was mortified in listening to her story of domestic violence and tried to offer the best advice possible. She finally stopped crying long enough to let me know her sister's number so that I could call her to pick her up. I saw that she safely was returned home to her sister. I would very much like to know that I had indeed helped her in some way, although I cannot be sure of that. I know a lot of people would have just called the cops on an odd woman like that in your yard, but I felt responsible somehow, like she came to me for help. She never did tell me her name, but I very much would have liked to known.

1 comment:

  1. What an experience!!! We just never know how our own experiences are going to help others....I'm sure you helped her in more ways than you'll ever realize, even if you do ever see her again...

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