Once Maralynn was safely at the shelter I decided to check out the area in the Homeless City that has always felt like the center of activity. This BST world has held a special place in my heart because so many of its homeless residents continue to live with mental illnesses, as they did in the physical. Their uncontrollable and illogical fears, paranoia and anxieties don't vanish when they die and it's horrible to me that so many end up stuck in that mindset, again.

I glided along the deserted and winding street until the old buildings opened up to a wide avenue, which has always been a kind of meeting place for many there. Some residents have their cliques, others are loners. Stuff is swapped, bargained, stolen, left in piles on sidewalks. I've never seen any kind of trash pick-up but something has to be going on because the usual mountains of garbage were smaller than I remembered. No one was out and about either, which was kind of odd, but perhaps that had more to do with me not visiting there as much as I use to. Once word gets around that I'm just one of the guys life will revert back to the norm.

I was moving slowly down the center of the avenue, staying open to any information from unseen Helpers. A man to my left suddenly barrelled through an open door out to the sidewalk, yelling through a megaphone! I could feel that he was aware of me but his real focus was making sure that everyone in the neighborhood heard him. He was doing a good job. I couldn't make out what he was hollering about but I knew instantly that he was not my person of interest. I stopped briefly, watched in amazement as he got angrier and louder, and then decided to continue my glide down the street.

It wasn't long before something black and red to my right at the bottom of a growing pile of garbage caught my attention. As I moved closer I realized it was an elderly woman in a faded red dress and black knitted shawl, partially camouflaged in dirty cardboard and trash. She was lying on her left side, sleeping. As I touched her shoulder, watching her eyelids flutter as pain instantly crisscrossed her face, I got that she had lived and died in a Jewish ghetto somewhere in eastern Europe, around the time of Hitler's rise to power. She had ended up sleeping in the streets, starving, convinced she was responsible for why God had turned his back on her. As I helped her stand up it then came to me that she most likely had no idea where she was now, and she didn't care. A ghetto was a ghetto.

To keep her attention on me I asked if she knew about the shelter a few blocks away. When she drew a blank I began an enthused sales talk about the food at the shelter, the clean rooms and beds, the caring folks. She was amazed. And to seal up the deal I closed with the brilliant fact that she'd be able to watch movies in their theatre there, too. And her immediate look of confusion and fear completely caught me off guard. She had no idea what a movie theatre was. My mind began groping for the right words to salvage whatever credibility I had left. She pulled her shawl tightly around her shoulders and began wondering what this was all about. I must have looked like a complete air-head.

Thank goodness a tall and serene woman, obviously a Helper, finally stepped forward to save the day. I watched the two begin their short walk to the shelter, heads almost touching as they talked, and decided I had better return to full waking consciousness.

Thanks for reading and much love,

Ginny

Hi Bird,

Focus 27. Out behind the shelter are several buses which are used for tours or outings, which to the best of my knowledge always end up in F27. The shelter is what Bruce mentioned in his books regarding the BST as a backdoor...a way out of a particular mindset/BST world.

Much love,

Ginny

Hi Jean,

Thanks for your kind words of encouragement. It was a boost for me .

Much love,

Ginny

   I wish I had your ability to travel around the otherside and help people like you do. I like helping people but can't accomplish much where I'm at in this world.

   I just applied for a schoolbus driver position. Maybe if I get this career it will open opportunities in my life for being more affective in helping others. Being unemployed has me feeling like a charged battery with nothing to do.