sometimes I suppress memory
sorrow, disgust, guilt, misgivings
I should probably take more
action on like those
twin mattresses we delivered
to that young single mother of
five dirty children in a photo we saw
in all the mess
and a filthy home last week,
mattresses practically new
we no longer needed, so I listed them
on Facebook Marketplace for cheap
the young mother didn’t have a person
or a way to get them so we delivered
them, left them on the
wheelchair ramp to her mobile home
sat in silence for a few moments staring
at the dump of the place, the broken
chairs and table, the dilapidated pet
cage (minus a pet, thank God),
plastic bags of strewn clothing,
home tattoo kit in a bag with needles,
smashed toys, headless dolls, trash
shattered bottles, crushed cans,
upturned cooler, bricks, dishes, wet papers,
random things everywhere destroyed
by rain and weather and wondered
(tried not to judge but it was impossible)
then a man came out with a bike helmet
and we asked if he was the boyfriend
meeting us to receive the beds
and in an offended tone told us no way
he was only there to fix a leak
with force like we’d slapped him
so we left them there in all the filth
right by a trash heap and wondered
whether to call DFACS or mind our
own business (remembering: I’m mandated
even outside of my own county, I’m
mandated as a human being for
reporting deplorable conditions)
I know they’re inanimate objects
my husband turned to me
confessing a hard truth
as we backed out of the parking space
but I almost feel sorry for the mattresses
I swallowed hard and admitted:
I keep telling myself that there
are five children who need a place
to sleep and these may be the
only clean beds they’ll ever see
(and maybe the only beds at all)
sobered by the experience
of this hardship case
rattled to the core, speechless,
we drove 23 miles back to clean
trying to forget all we’d seen
wondering if we owned enough soap
but still asking: did we do the right thing?
should we return with groceries,
does she have services in place?
because tears do not cure hunger
tears do not clothe children
no, crying doesn’t change a thing
Note: we only saw photographs, not the actual children.
Common Threads 
I felt this poem in my skin and stomach. You did the right thing. You can always return to give more. This slice is a reminder to be grateful for all we have. I think I needed to read it. Sending you a hug.
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Thank you, Amy. I needed the reassurance, too! Blessings!
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I am starting to feel exhausted as I finish your slice. “Did we do the right thing?” “Tears do not…” Prior I had read your comment to me of cleaning out. Now I get the rest of the story…Hang in there….
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Kim,
Wow! Powerful slice. Powerful. Your writing brings it completely home, but the content. . . what is going on in that woman’s life, and more importantly those children’s lives cannot be ignored. It’s hearbreaking. Thank-you for your slice today.
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Oh those hard moments. As a teacher with students living in poverty this as a question that I asked myself often. What more can I do or should do? Sometimes the help was wanted other times I was yelled at or told to mind my of business. So glad you left the mattresses. They will be used you can count on that. We just need to do what we can when we can. Thanks for sharing this today.
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Kim – your poem built and built and built all the tears in me. And yes, tears cannot do anything. What a powerful and haunting poem. As a human, I feel like I need to know that those children are safe. I want to go there and be witness, but I know I can’t, you can’t. Sometimes circumstances just are, and they have to lay there and remain in your memory. I will never forget the pictures you created in my mind.
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So sad. I have seen situations like this. Once it was a student. I was delivering books during Covid. I was so horrified. I follow his mother on Facebook and believe there are in a better place, but pure poverty sets kids up for a lifetime of disappointment. I am glad you didn’t see the kids.
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This is so, so powerful. And, a reminder to not only be grateful for the bounty in my life, but also to help organizations that can provide assistance to those who want / need it.
Thank you for sharing.
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Kim, poems like yours help to bring people up short. Our lives slide by day by day, we eat nutritious food, live in more than adequate homes, feel loved and supported and usually take it all for granted. I’m glad you put your act of charity into words because now I can put your act of charity into action in some small way. We all need to pay attention and do our part. Bless you!
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Mim,
These are heartbreaking details you e shared. Do you know the Gwendolyn Brooks poem “Lovers of the Poor”? I suspect the woman who lives in that squalor doesn’t want to be seen. When I was in first grade my teacher told me to go home and tell my mom to buy me a toothbrush. I wonder what she thought of my smelly, unkempt self.
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I know the Bean Eaters, but not the Lovers of the Poor. I will go look to read that one. Thanks, Glenda!
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I am crying and confident that those children will sleep in peace and comfort because of your mattress delivery. This a heartbreaking SOL and yet I do know it is real life….I once delivered an old sofa 40 miles to an apartment that had NOTHING in it…and a family of 6. We chose to gift back the $75 we were asking….there are many with nothing…and they stay with you…like your post
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Kim, wow. I so appreciate your honesty here. It is so hard to know how to help. Peace to you and this dear family, each one a little Christ.
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