Jerry and Lorin Biederman
I am in my late forties and have two teenage daughters. My life has been difficult but, by the grace of God, I am a survivor.
My girls and I spent much of their childhood in shelters and living on the street. Though we were together six years, I never married the girls' father. He couldn't hold a job and although I am a hard worker, without a college education, the money just wasn't enough to support us. He spent most of my money on hard liquor, and he didn't come home for days.
One day, after he threatened to kill me (he was a violent drunk), I packed up my babies and our belongings and headed for a better part of town. I figured I would give nay girls a good education, even if we had to live on the street.
I managed to find a job as a waitress at a local coffee shop, and I enrolled my girls in a good public school. My job didn't pay enough for rent, so we moved from shelter to shelter. I was nervous about the address, so I got a post office box and used the address for the school paperwork.
No one suspected we were homeless. My girls went to school every day. If the shelter was nearby, we walked. If we had to, we took a bus.
My girls were always very presentable. I let them go to friends' houses as much as possible, and I often tried to buy them special gifts. But, mostly, the little money we had was put away for their future,
We had made a pact that we would not tell anyone we were homeless because I was sure this fine school wouldn't allow my daughters remain if they knew about our situation.
One day, several years later, one of the girls came back to the shelter and told me her friend's mother had invited all three of us over for supper the next evening. I managed to talk to the director of the shelter into allowing me to use the kitchen to bake cookies.
We knocked on the door of a beautiful two-story home. It was spotless and comfortable. Mary, the mother, was so appreciative of the cookies. We had a wonderful evening, and I knew I had found a friend.
A few days later, Leticia, my youngest, came home. And said that Mary had asked for our phone number. She wanted to call me to get together. Leticia told her we were having trouble with the phones, and she would have me call her. I hated that my gifts had to lie.
I called Mary and again we got together at her house. She and I became good friends. I constantly told her that I wanted to have her over to our place, but then I would lie and say we were having trouble with the landlord of our apartment building or that something wasn't working, like the stove, the air conditioning, etc.
Mary came into the coffee shop one day and asked if I could spend my break with her. We took a walk, and then she stopped at a vacant house a few blocks down the road. It had a For Rent sign out front and was the most adorable little home.
Mary said, “Do you like this place?”
“Oh, very much!” I exclaimed. “But it's way out of my league.”
“Why don' t we call and find out?” Mary said. This upset me. I told her that the most I could afford was $350 a month.
No one would rent a house for that little—especially this house.
The next day, Mary came into the coffee shop with a big grin on her face and a For Rent sign in her hands. She was so excited that she couldn't hold back the news. “I spoke with the owner of that house and guess what? They're renting the house for $350 a month! It couldn't be more perfect for you and the girls.”
I told her, “That's impossible. Houses rent for three times that much in this neighborhood.”
She explained that the owners didn't really need the money. They just needed someone who would appreciate living there and would take special care of it.
A few weeks later, we moved in. We managed to get some furniture from the Salvation Army, Shari, my oldest, took wood shop in school and made us a fine coffee table. We fixed the place up, and I even planted some flowers, which made me feel like I was planting my roots. I hoped to stay here a long time, raise my gifts, and always have a place for them to come home to.
But secrets, I've found, don't usually stay secrets. One month, I had mailed my rent check, but it was during the holidays, and I didn't want it to be late, so I decided to drop it off at the appropriate post office box.
I was standing in line at the post office when I heard a familiar voice ask for a package from the box where I sent my rent. I peeked around the line and was shocked to see Mary!
She was thumbing through her mail when I touched her arm. Tears were starting to form in my eyes, and I could barely speak. “Mary, is it your house we're living in? Did you do this for us?”
She put her arm around my shoulder and walked me outside. By the time we reached the sidewalk, I was sobbing. I am a very strong woman and tears don't come easily. I have been through a lot in my life, but no one had ever been so kind.
Mary told me that Leticia had slipped and told her daughter we were homeless. She said she never would have guessed. The girls were always so clean and well dressed. She said it was her and her husband's first home, and it was very special to them, that they had owned the house for a long time, and it was paid for. She and her husband had talked about it and wanted to rent the house to us. She hadn't wanted me to know because she was afraid I would think it was charity.
Shari is graduating from high school this year, and because we were able to save enough money, she is going to college.
Mary is my Earth Angel, and I want her to know that I appreciate her kindness and generosity, and that I love her.
I bring Mary fresh flowers every week from our garden.