Just a Dirty Towel
I thought about this entry, and its title, while I was using the restroom this morning. The druid had just gone to work with the driver, a friend who has driven taxis for a number of years, and provides his service to the druid for a reduced fee. There was a wet, used towel on the floor next to the tub.
The driver visited very early this morning, made use of our shower, and broke his fast with scrambled eggs, toast, and coffee, before driving the druid to work. The driver, who had been living with his parents while he went to school, had been abruptly thrown out, and now lives in his car. The druid didn’t tell me until just last night what’s been going on in this gentleman’s life.
Of course I was happy to allow him use of the shower. Even if he didn’t go to church as he tends to do, I know how important it is to feel clean, even if for a short time. And the food, well, we have more of that, and have enough to share. A bit later in the morning I even volunteered to help him with his phone, as it’s a cheap plan and it’s probably one of the only ways he can get enough money, through taxi-ing and such, to keep his car running, keep himself fed, and so on.
To me, it’s just a dirty towel on the floor, another dirty plate in the sink. To the driver, it’s a small token of dignity, a simple moment to not worry about the next meal, the next time he can bathe, and so on. Without the driver, we would be in true danger of being unable to take care of ourselves, as the druid depends heavily upon this man to get him from work in the middle of the night.
Heck, I wish we had yet another empty room or a corner to stash him. But for now, it’s enough to give him use of the shower, the kitchen, and whatever else he needs. He even made off with a belt too tight for the druid’s not insignificant belly.
