$40,000 and Ice Cream

I drove up to see a squad of kids holding a little African-American boy. He had to be two or three years old. They were all laughing because they had just bought some ice cream for everybody and in the 90+ degree heat and 100% humidity, the ice cream was dripping like a leaky water faucet. The little boy was taking his hand that was covered with sticky, gooey, ice cream stuff, and rubbing it on the young man who was holding him. They came up to the van and asked if I had a paper towel. I only had Klennex's, but that sufficed.
A few feet in front of them was where the serious conversation was going on. Our worker was kneeling down talking to the mother of the little boy. I didn't know what the conversation was, but the squad had told me that they wanted to talk outside of earshot of the little boy, so I knew it had to be something they didn't want him to hear.
As it turned out, the young, single mother had paid out over $40,000 to a "contractor" who was going to repair her home. The only problem, the money was gone and so were the contractors. No repairs, nothing to go home to. The young mother and her little boy were sleeping on the floor of her beauty parlor. That's the only place they had, which was more than many had in New Orleans. We took her to the Outreach Center where she met Nate Johnson, the man who ran the center. I'm sure he gave her some food, some care, and some hope.
You know what the young mom kept saying to our workers? You think she wanted to retrieve her $40,000? Sure she did. But that wasn't what was at the top of her list. She just kept saying over and over, "I just want to go home." Amen, dear sister! Amen! So do I! Have a great day! JW