It was Friday and I had an event to attend. I work in the non-profit world and this was one that I didn't want to miss particularly because I need to be personally involved with something bigger than myself.
I show up. It's outdoors. There is a sign-in. I grab a sharpie, write my name with great intention and stamp myself with a name tag. My head is aching and it's only 10 am. Need coffee. Of course, this event is catered. For breakfast. Outdoors. Impressive. Coffee, tea, OJ, coffee cake, baked goods galore. Yum. The organizer announces that we are about to begin and to gather 'round for when the subjects of the hour enter with fanfare and joy!
Standing there with my coffee, informational pamphlet and great anticipation, I hear the music. It's drums and singing and dancing and everyone stops. Coming down the street and around the bend. We're all standing there waiting until the rhythm gets closer. We are about to be enveloped in a celebration. Didn't know what was coming.
I finally get a peek of what is happening when the drumming enters the lot. Men, black, white, all beating the junk out of their drum; women, black, white, old, young, dancing. Dancing in white. To an Afro-Caribbean beat. It was wonderful. The real celebration was what is to follow. Women dancing, with raised hands, shouting, laughing, smiling and singing follow and all us bystanders are in the midst of something that was more than any of us bargained for.
This was the homecoming of women who were homeless. No longer are they so because there is a place called Downtown Women's Center that is out to end homelessness for women in Los Angeles. These women were overjoyed because they coming home to a new facility that would their community. A 71-unit building was finally theirs, fully renovated and furnished for them to call their own. We were there to welcome them and witness.
I cannot tell you what really happened. All I know is that what I was watching was beyond us. The dancing and the mix of all people from all backgrounds and walks of life and ages and races were all together celebrating. A battle had been won and these women were being welcomed home.
I was in tears.
It was so moving. I thought, "This is how I imagine heaven."
The only drawback was that there was no one there to share this with me! I was surrounded by total strangers and here I am crying, for Pete's sake.
I turned around there happened to be a woman that worked there (she had a clipboard and headset; takes a real genius) and she was wearing yellow which is why I think I was drawn to her. Plus, it helped that she was crying, too. I walked up and touched her shoulder and said, "I don't know why I'm crying; this is my first time here!" She looked at me and said, "I know! I planned this event and didn't even know it would be like this! It's just so moving!" Then, I added, "I just need to tell someone this: This is how I imagine heaven to be!"
She lost it. Tears free flowing. She thanked me for saying that and said oh my gosh a few times and then thanked me again.
Let me tell you, I did not expect this to happen at all. I mean, I had expectations. I thought it would have been good. I thought this interaction between DWC and I would start a steady yet not-so-often volunteer relationship. Who'da thunk it?
It was really one of things that you commit to because it sounds really great and then when it comes down to you getting ready, getting dressed, putting on make-up and figuring out what to wear and getting in the car to go, you want to talk yourself out of it because it's not mandatory. No one will notice if you aren't there. Take my advice: get up and go anyway. Changed my life.
Downtown Women's Center is an amazing nonprofit that I cannot say enough about. Here is an article in the LA Times where they were featured.
