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The Curious Case of The Homeless One

The following story is a true account and you may draw your own conclusions.

During March 2017, I was notified through my domestic assistant that in a township there was a white lady that was homeless and an ANC member of Parliament was asking the white community to please give this lady accommodation. Lara moved into our home at the end of March 2017. A frightened bird with damaged wings and a mind too toxic for humanity. The agreement was that R1000.00 South African rands would be exchange for full board, three meals a day, her laundry done and bedding provided. The first two months I received our rent on time. Then came the story that her money had run out. Please keep in mind she had just sold her car for R19 000.00 and there is still an outstanding amount of R3000.00 which the buyer refuses to pay. No money, no home, no family! Lara stayed on and though we had discussed that certain chores would be done and they were for approx. two weeks, then Lara regressed into a pattern of staying in her room and only socializing with us at meal times, she made coffee for herself and the various occupants, but she made her own meals and took care of herself. During a wedding when the house was particularly full and busy, Lara had every opportunity to pitch in and assist by making meals or tidying up as we were all rather stretched and busy. Lara stayed in her room.   Cigarettes were provided for her, a roof over her head was provided as well as eating all and everything that was in the house. I won't sugar coat this, Lara you ate me out my house! You called us psychopaths! You referred to me as Alice in Wonderland and thought that I was too dense to understand.
      You mistook my kindness, my love and my empathy as stupidity. You insulted my parrot, poor Charlie, he spends his life on a perch, an African Grey Parrot, he sleeps on his feet, he never gets to lie down and relax, this is his life and you called him an Anaconda and told him you would prefer having a snake as a pet than poor Charlie! When he talked, you covered his cage! When it was cold, you closed the doors to the house. You opened and closed curtains and made our home your home and it was fine because I kept hoping your soul was healing. But some folks are too damaged by life, some folks only know cruelty and yours is with your tongue. We are not psychopaths, we are people that love to live and live to love. I needed you as I travel and you would have been  such a blessing to have in our home, but you abused us. You abused our generosity and you took without giving. When I began asking you how you would compensate me for the cigarettes we continued to supply you, you replied by stating you have no money. Lara, this is to tell you that the world does not revolve around money. You have to give in order to receive. You refuse to learn this. You are trapped in a shell of self protection and this shell is actually destroying you. At any given time, you could have vacuumed,mopped or even just walked the dogs. You could have taken over the garden and managed that, but you choose to sit in your room. Today my son will be loading your stuff and booking you into a hotel for the weekend, where you go from there is entirely up to you. All I know is, is that I am responsible for my own life and my decisions. No one gets a free ride. There is always an exchange that must take place. Perhaps you require mental help, but whatever you require, as much as it pains me, I could not provide it. This is November 2017 and for R2000.00 rand rent, I am left with conflicting emotions and to the homeless out there, nothing comes free! You have to work and perhaps that's part of being homeless. When we give up on ourselves, we will watch as life strips everything from us. You have to fight in life, push and push forward and never surrender. There will be a Lara explanation to this and many excuses furnished and provided, at any given stage, we could have changed our minds, but here's the bottom line, how do you live with a toxic person? Not only does Lara have OCD, which is fine, go clean my house, you have OCD, but it's the mumbling and the insults that make me retreat and think: hell no way. I cannot face another day with you under my roof. I am praying the Universe opens a door for you as God is faithful and always provides, and so I trust in His wisdom as I have had dreams telling me to throw you out of my house, so what have you done that my higher self would alert me to the fact that you have to leave my home? I don't want an answer, I just want the peace that dwells in my home returned and I wish you well and wish you had opened your mind, heart and soul to the wisdom that was poured out to you, but you shut us out and the saddest of all is that there is no pleasure in knowing you.....I may well be Alice in Wonderland, but you are an island and despite what Paul Simon wrote, your tears speak of pain, but your island has no harbors and no mooring points, it's all rocks and jagged edges.  Love cannot find you and this is the saddest, saddest truth of all. Maybe you not an island, maybe you are ship that drifts from place to place, a ghost ship where love once lived, I am so sorry, but the thought of your mumbling and the sarcastic responses make it impossible to reconsider.
Vaya Con Dios.........and may God forgive me! 

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