Not everybody that is homeless wants to move into housing. Some people are just happy where they are in life. I know a few like that. However, I wanted to find a more permanent place as soon as possible. I was praying to God every night to deliver me from this hell called homelessness. Despite being physically sick, it was also mentally draining. So, I got a call one Saturday from a preacher in town to meet him at a local restaurant for lunch.
One thing you don't turn down is actual food that is free. I met him there that Saturday. I didn't really know this man, but apparently he knew me. While we ate, he told me of another preacher in town who had some homes where guys stayed. The rent was based on income. He would set up a meeting with this man on Monday. It would be at another restaurant for lunch. Some more free food.
Monday came, and I met this man with some others he brought along. We hit it off almost immediately. He said that he had some houses around town and asked where I would like to live. I told him that I didn't care, as long as I didn't have to share a room with 27 of my closest friends. He said I would have one roommate in a house of 3 people. It started sounding better. There was a stipulation: I would have to work with his church a couple of nights a week. I could do that. He asked if I had a job. I said not really, however I could make some money selling things on the internet. He was intrigued at that prospect. We finished lunch, and he took me to a house to show me where I would be living.
It was behind the University of South Carolina and one block from a bus stop. We went inside, and the two guys there welcomed me. I went upstairs to see the bedroom. It was pretty big, but I noticed that newspaper was around the windows. My potential roommate told me that was insulation. He also said that there was a railroad track across the street from the house, and trains would cause the walls to shake. It was also pretty loud. All things considered, it was better than where I was. The preacher and I shook hands, as I agreed to move in. He said he would let me know by the end of the week when moving day was.
I was excited. It wasn't ideal, but it was better than where I was. On Tuesday, I told the mission staff that I would be moving out by the end of the week. They were glad for me. I packed my stuff up, as I waited for the call. Thursday came and no call. I called the preacher, and he said that I couldn't live there, because I didn't have a job. I reiterated that I sold things online, but he wanted me to have a real job like roofing or construction. I told him that I was not physically up to manual labor. So, he told me no. I went back to the mission and told them that I was staying, as the housing deal had fallen through. Thankfully, my bed was still there for me alongside my 27 friends.
A couple of days later, I got an email from the first preacher. The one who knew me, but I didn't know him. He was mad at me for not taking the offer. He said that the second preacher had told him that I turned down the offer. That was not true. I discovered that the two preachers had an arrangement. Perhaps financial. One would find candidates, and the other would put them in houses. The government paid the second preacher for housing the homeless. It was all legal. However, the first preacher said something that was disgusting. He told me that his church would stop praying for me, as I was more interested in being homeless than getting myself out of that situation. Maybe, I misinterpreted his statement, but it sure didn't sound very Christian. I can't judge others' motives. But, this experience caused me to be less trusting of others. One thing I am still dealing with, over ten years later, is trusting others. Trust me.
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