Santana showed up in Tent City about a month ago.
She'd been homeless following her release from jail on a drug trafficking charge.
Hardened criminal? Hardly.
She mailed some Tramadol and Soma pills to her daughter through the mail.
Illegal, absolutely. But I couldn't help but feel that the charge was excessive. (I obtained copies of her complete criminal history. There was no "more to the story" component. She mailed 12 tramadol pills- think 4 Aleves- and 8 Somas- muscle relaxers- to someone other than who they were prescribed.)
Now I had a few disagreements with my husband and others over this. Most believe that it didn't matter WHAT the drug was- she broke the law. I don't disagree- she WAS wrong. I just can't believe a lawyer (not a public defender, an actual she-lost-her-money attorney) couldn't get her in some type of pre-trial, first-time-offender program. She served four months over prescriptions I'd have tossed in the trash.
That said, I wasn't about to let her know I felt that way. She already was playing the victim. And scheming and scamming to get someone to pay off her $2000 fine so she could go back home to Illinois.
Our number one rule is we don't pay fines and we don't bond out.
But she was going to try to get us to break that rule.
She came to church three times.
I could tell she was closed off, but that wasn't uncommon. Sometimes it takes awhile to trust and I had the time.
First, we were going to seek legal assistance. Perhaps she could do community service in exchange for fines.
That's when I got a copy of her records. She'd had money to bond out after her arrest and money to pay an attorney. No-one was going to waive fees.
So then I called the Salvation Army.
She'd already been there, and left on her own so she couldn't return for 30 days.
I asked her why, and she said it was because they had to leave during the day and she didn't have anywhere to go.
So you move to the woods? It made no sense.
She wasn't drinking OR doing drugs. Of this, I'm sure. Not only because I saw her frequently, but because no-one ever saw her drink or use drugs. And not that people in the woods are always honest, but it is like a kindergarten class of tattletales. The woods hold no secrets.
When the couple who'd been watching out for her got an opportunity for housing, she came unglued. She was panicked and I looked past her anger to her fear and tried to help.
I got the Salvation Army to waive their 30-day requirement to let her come back. I also put her in touch with a woman's shelter where she had the opportunity to get a job and pay her fines back. I spent a few hours on the phone making arrangements and was relieved to find some options for her.
Less than 24 hours later, I called to tell her only to find out she had manipulated the other woman's brother into paying for her to go to a hotel room for a few days.
"What are you going to do after that?" I asked her.
From the hesitation in her voice it was obvious she hadn't even considered past the next day. "Uh, um..then he'll get another check and pay for a few more days, I guess."
Then came what felt like a kick to my stomach. "I thought you and your husband were going to help me."
Then came MY hesitation. I couldn't very well say what I wanted to. (If only I'd learned THAT lesson years ago!)
"Umm, I thought that's what WE were doing." I refrained from rattling off the list of things I'd done so far, from transportation to meals to running her mail she'd started sending to my house.
It dawned on me that she didn't want help. She wanted to be bailed out. She didn't want to pay the consequences of her actions. Whether I agreed with the court's decision or not, she had a mess to clean up and all I could do was hand her a mop. I'm not the maid.
"Santana, we don't pay fines and we don't bail people out. That's our ministry's policy," I told her.
I am pretty sure I'd already told her that, but this was the first time she heard it. Her goodbye was quick... and final.
I've never minded people coming to church for the wrong reasons because they usually end up staying for the right ones. But this one wouldn't be back. I couldn't help but feel played.
I relayed the conversation to my husband later that evening.
I wasn't hurt; I didn't take it personally. I guess I was a little confused. No matter what shape a person is in, I almost always connect on SOME level. At least for a moment, if nothing else.
But with Santana, it was always a game.
My husband, whose wisdom and guidance I've come to count on, summed it up perfectly.
"Don't worry about it. She didn't want help. To get REAL help, you've got to get real. She never did."
Sad, but true.
But I don't dismiss souls. So I pray that somewhere in there a seed was planted and the Lord will send someone else to minister to her.
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