Email: Stephanie Pashby

Dear Friends,

The time has come yet again to update you all on the comings and goings of my life here in Hollywood. In reading through C.S. Lewis’ Prince Caspian last weekend, there was a great parallel in the book to my life here in Hollywood. Lucy, the youngest of the four children, is awakened in the middle of the night and sees Aslan, the great and mighty lion whom she has not seen for a year. She tells him that he looks so much bigger than when she last saw him. Aslan replies that the more she grows, the bigger he will seem to her. This can be true of moving to Los Angeles for me. The more that I grow in the Lord, the more my mind is stretched, the bigger that He seems. Looking out over the urban sprawl of 11 million people in Los Angeles can be overwhelming, but then I remember that God knows each of the people living in this city by name.

This past month we were able to suffer with, in a unique way, our next door neighbor, Maria, who lost her 33-year-old daughter to a heart attack. Her daughter lived in Oregon and had a husband and children. We normally do not interact with Maria that much, only to ask her how she is doing or ask her son to move his car, as he normally parks in our driveway and blocks us in at least once a week. But one of my roommates, Shelton, asked a few weeks ago how she was doing, and she spilled the tragic story of her daughter’s death. Her daughter was to be flying into Los Angeles one week after she passed away for a family reunion. Maria had anticipated her daughter’s visit with great excitement, only to receive the news that she had passed away. Maria then had to fly up to Oregon and start the funeral arrangements. What do you tell a mother who has outlived a daughter?  My roommates and I did not know how to help Maria and her family through this time. We did cook some lasagna for them during this hard time, and were able to listen to some stories about Maria’s daughter through the tears.

One day, shortly after Maria returned from Oregon, I was walking to the pharmacy and passed by her house. I asked her how she was doing, and she passed me the program from her daughter’s service. I glanced at the program and continued on my original track to the pharmacy. After getting back from the pharmacy, I looked at the program more closely. On the back of the program, Maria and her family had listed thanks for several people who had helped them through this hard time. Halfway down the list, my eyes caught a line which read, “We would like to thank the Community House and its four angels Jen, Stephanie, Shelton, and Kristina.” My eyes filled with tears as I contemplated this message. All we did was make lasagna and listen to stories, and yet Maria’s family had appreciated our small gesture so much as to include our names in the program! I will treasure this moment in my heart for a long while. Maria and her family are in need of prayers as they continue to grieve their loss.

At my internship site, I too am learning what it means to suffer alongside someone. The past two months my partner Soraya and I have been working on a very hard case in Hollywood. Our friend is a woman who I will call Linda. Linda is a senior citizen, in at least her 70s, and is usually seen hanging out on the same street, day after day, in a wheelchair. At first, one would think that outside of being homeless, Linda is a normal person. But taking a look at Linda’s left leg communicates differently. Linda’s leg is being eaten by either a staph infection or gangrene. I believe the later is more plausible, as her leg is completely black and it looks very painful. Linda cannot stand up or move from her chair, and so she urinates in her wheelchair, which further infects her leg. Every time Soraya and I saw Linda, she would beg us to bring a doctor and have her leg cut off.  Yet when we asked her if she would go with an ambulance, she said that the last time she went with the paramedics, they tortured her. Linda also mentioned that she was starting to have bloating in her stomach and back area, and her hand looked very bloated as well. We worried that Linda’s infection was spreading.

Soraya and I began to build up trust with Linda, coming by to offer her a lunch, medical help, and our flyer with contact information on it. When we saw her, she would talk to us, but refuse our services.

About three weeks ago, we ended up getting in touch with Adult Protective Services (APS) and Department of Mental Health (DMH) to see if they could take Linda in and help her get to the hospital. While we were visiting the scene, a bystander called the paramedics, who came out to visit Linda. Apparently the paramedics get called every day about her, and always come offering to take Linda in, but she refuses to go with them. APS had said they would be at the scene within the next three hours, so we decided to go back to the office and coordinate DMH to meet us there as well. When we returned to the location where Linda was, she had disappeared! I quickly got out of the van to search the area while Soraya drove around the area. Soraya called a few minutes later; she had found Linda! We quickly drove to the new location. When we arrived on the scene, Linda was crossing the street in her wheelchair. We followed her, and then told her that we were going to have a doctor come and help her. She exclaimed, “No!  I don’t want anyone to come and torture me!” She started rolling away from us. At this point, APS called me and said they were five minutes away. But the startling observation I made was that Linda was right next to the bus stop, and there was a bus coming down the street headed towards her. Soraya and I held our breath; the first bus driver wouldn’t let Linda on because she didn’t have the correct amount of money. But then, a second bus came and Linda got on. Two minutes later, APS and DMH showed up. It was a frustrating day, to say the least. Neither APS nor DMH can do anything if Linda will not go with the paramedics, as she is not seen as a threat to others or herself. Yet if she continues out on the streets of LA, she will die with her infection if it is spreading to other areas of her body.

Later that night, my roommate Jen said, “It’s comforting to know that we are not expected to be the savior of the world. The Savior has already come; our job is to communicate Christ’s love to those who have not yet experienced it.” It is hard not to want to be a savior when I do homeless outreach. But the experience with Linda has taught me that I am showing her the love of Christ, which is all we are really asked to do. Hopefully, in time, she will come to trust us and ask for assistance. In the meantime, we’re here to walk alongside of her in her struggles.

May each of you continue to be blessed in the coming spring months.

In Christ,

Stephanie Pashby

For more little stories, visit my blog. For more information about homelessness, visit the Web site of People Assisting the Homeless.