We worked with a skeleton crew yesterday–two at American Family Planning and two at Summit. The Summit counselors reported that they gave out a lot of our material and that the numbers there were not as high as in previous weeks. Over at American Family Planning, our friend Chris, who goes there every day, says that the number of clients there is less than he’s ever seen.
Standing at the door of American Family Planning, I had an interesting conversation with a young white man. His girlfriend, standing with her head bowed, wearing sweat pants with skulls, never said a word. He had shoulder length stringy hair, a scraggly beard, piercings here and there; and from the outset, his mouth issued such a string of profanities like nothing I have ever heard. In some sort of mock religious ceremony, he poured water on me, then swelling with rage, he informed me and Alicia that we were going to hell for our pride.
At La Rosita, five mothers came for diapers and clothes; one came also for a crib and playpen. Later that morning, in two cars, we criss-crossed a neighborhood looking for a white van belonging to Ana and Carmelo. They have moved into a different neighborhood, which we knew, but when we called to get a specific address the recording told us their phone had been disconnected. In the last phone contact we had with them, Ana told us that they had no sink in the kitchen and they were bailing water out of their washing machine. Well, we were not able to find the van, and I am concerened about them. This is an intact family of eight children–but very poor. Pray that we find them.
