the return of clarence

by becca albertson

Readers who have been to this site [expanding albertson's] for awhile will remember our old friend Clarence. I wrote about him, here.

Well I hadn’t seen him in quite some time. He came by asking for money after his apartment burned up sometime last fall… but the Red Cross (I saw on the news) had relocated the fire victims while his apartment was fixed up. And now he’s back home, as I learned the other day.

Monday afternoon the doorbell rang and the dog barked… I looked out the window and saw Mr. Clarence standing there. “Well hello there Clarence! How’s it going?” Not well. I hurt my shoulder. I need more pain meds. “Well Clarence I don’t have any cash. Did you go to the hospital?” Yeah, I was up there last week but I ran out of meds. “They won’t give you any more of the tough stuff Clarence. You probably just need some ibuprofen.” Yeah, so I need to rake your yard so that you can pay me. “Dude. Raking is not good for a hurt shoulder.” What else am I supposed to do? “Yeah, good point. Well, I don’t have any cash… (glance around and check pockets) OH WAIT! Clarence, this $5 bill has been sitting on this table all weekend. I seriously never have cash. It must have been waiting for you.” {starts hysterically laughing} YES M’AM! Waitin’ for ME! “Alrighty then. Here you go. But seriously, I NEVER HAVE CASH and don’t have much extra. Gotta pay for this house and these kids, you know?” Yeah I know. Thanks though. “And Clarence?” Yeah. “GO TO CHURCH. Seriously. You need to go to church, Clarence. You need a church family. They will love you well.” I’m not right with God, M’am. I haven’t been to no church in a long time. “You think that really matters Clarence? Or do you think God loves you no matter what?” Yeah. I need to go to church. “Yeah, you should go up to Goler.” How you know ’bout Goler? that’s a black church. “Oh come on man! I don’t live under a rock! I have friends who go to that church. And they are awesome, and they help people a lot. Go.” {cracking up hysterically again} alright alright! i’ll go back. I been there before. “Alright Clarence. remember I’m not a bank. See you soon buddy!”

I was really glad to see him. There’s this other guy that’s been asking to do yard work, that looks a lot like Clarence, but then he’s been robbing people. I just KNEW that that wasn’t Clarence when I heard about that other guy. But, I knew people would be even more suspicious of Clarence now, and give him less work. Which seems to be the case. So, it was just good to see him and know that the cops hadn’t arrested the wrong guy. Clarence is just really gentle. and he has a sweet spirit. I don’t know why, but I trust him not to mess with me. Not naive… he knows where I live. he could rob us someday. But living in fear and not loving? Not an option.

Anyway, today I’m unloading the kids from the car after picking up Leah from school. Clarence comes RUNNING down our road. Hey! Hey! Wait! don’t unload them kids! “Hey Clarence- what’s up? You okay?” …with a tear running down his face he says Please give me a ride downtown. Please. The one lady who pays me consistently finally has a check… it’s ready… I gotta give it to my landlord. Please. … I pause. I am a small, white girl. with three kids. By myself. STUPID. It would be stupid of me to let this man in my car and drive him somewhere. The cops would say STUPID. But, he was desperate. I know him. I trust him. So I looked at him and said “Clarence. I swear to God if you try to mess with me in that car I will PUNCH YOU IN THE FACE. I’m not kidding. I will take you. But I will kill you if you mess with me. Do you know what Oprah says? don’t do stuff like this. But I love Jesus. I’ll take you if you go to church.”

Well once again he starts hysterically laughing. THANK YOU! THANK YOU! he shouts. And laughs and says why would I mess you up? why’d I do that? I don’t think you would, Clarence, but the world tells me otherwise. Oprah tells me otherwise. Jesus? He tells me to care for you, to help you, to love you, even though it’s “not safe.”
I loaded everyone back up. The kids told Clarence all about their day. Clarence and I talked about Haiti and how sad it all was. We had a delightful time, and got a lot of stares, of course. .

My point in writing about this is to remember. Not to lift myself up as some martyr, because it was a big pain in my ass to do that for Clarence. Was I blessed today because I helped Clarence? DUH! Yes! I was. I write to remind myself that there are people in Haiti who need our help and love, and people right here who need our help and love, too. When we open our hearts to others, we are lit up from the inside. And the world becomes a little brighter, and we become a little less afraid.

the following article originally appeared at albertson debrief, written by becca albertson, who is an advocate in many fashions, of international adoption. becca is a phenomenal writer and mother of three, including her son, sam, who is from ethiopia. becca's self-desribed religious beliefs... "i love jesus. but i'm not a republican. (sorry mom)"