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Karen Lynn Vidra, The Texas Tornado

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     A homeless woman shares her story.

Image of clouds' reflection in puddle (C) 2009, by Karla Dorman.

They call me Bright Eyes.  I suppose it is because of my eyes.  They are big and bright.  So there y' go.

I am fifty six years old.  Don't have a home:  haven't had one in over ten years; live on the streets here in downtown Fort Worth, Texas.

Don't feel sorry for me.  I'm makin' it by the grace of God.   Have a wonderful circle of friends who support me and love me, even when I'm not that loveable.

Some of my friends include "Snaggle-Tooth Annie", "Vet-Man", "Q-Man", "Charlie-The-Crazy", and Rica.  Some have since gone on to their Heavenly Reward in the sky:  "Eeek", "Shoeless Joe", "Gracie-the-Bag Lady", and more.  Have lost far too many friends than I can count.  It hurts, but it also helps me knowin' that they are now with Jesus and God and all the angels up there.  They no longer sufferin', so that's good.

I lost my home 'count of some bad decisions I made.  I was a compulsive gambler.  I squandered all my (and my deceased husband's) money on lottery tickets or slot machines ... I guess, hopin' for the Big Payment ..., but that Big Payment never came.  All it got me was evicted from my apartment and out on the streets.  My husband died not long after; I guess he died of a broken heart because he didn't like livin' with a woman who was a gambler.  He was only in his forties.

My kids won't even talk to me.  Of course, they don't know where to get a hold of me.  Livin' on the streets, I have no phone ... all I have is just some pocket change, and the clothes on me back.  Everythin' I own is in two big suitcases, which I put in a grocery park; this is how I get around.  I walk everywhere I need to go.

If the weather is bad out, I stay underneath a bridge or try to find some shelter, hopin' someone will take me in so I don't get soaked or frozen like a popsicle or burned up by the relentless Texas summer sun.  Summers are terrible here in Texas:  it feels more like the pits of hell.

It is all I can do to keep from plungin' myself into a pool if I go by one or strippin' off all me clothes.  I'd sooner run around naked, but then I'd run the risk of gettin' arrested for indecent (northern and southern) exposure!

Not good!

If it were not for my fellow homeless (or poor) friends, or the church that feeds/clothes me, I don't know where I'd be:  probably buried in some unmarked grave along the highway, I suppose.  I just wish people who walk or drive by would help a fellow American woman who happens to be down on her luck and not ignore me as though I were invisible!

Well, I'm going to see if I can scrounge up some extra money, so I can eat.  I am hungry all of a sudden.  I will write in here again soon; just say a prayer that someone will help a person like me!  I wouldn't recommend street life for anybody:  it's one of the worst feelings in the world!  Thanks for listenin' to me!

~"Bright Eyes".

*to be continued.* 

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Reviewed by Michelle Kidwell Power In The Pen 9/7/2010
Sad story this is happening far to often
In Christs Love
Michelle~
Reviewed by Rose Rideout 7/20/2010
It breaks my heart to know that in todays world , so many are homeless. Great write Karen.

Newfie Hugs are on the way, Rose
Reviewed by Dawn Anderson 7/20/2010
Sad write, Karen, but written well.
Reviewed by Karla Dorman, The StormSpinner 7/19/2010
There should be NONE homeless in the richest country in the world. :/ So sad and effectively penned, Karen. Well done.

(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
Reviewed by Paul Berube 7/19/2010
Quite the story, Karen. Well done.

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