Who Are the Real Fanatics?
GUEST COLUMN
On a recent afternoon I was working at Caring Families, a crisis pregnancy center in my town, when I noticed a young woman walking back and forth in front of our window. Soon I heard a tap on the door. The young woman stepped in timidly, shut the door, tried to smile, and began to cry. “I’m in trouble,” she said. “I’m pregnant.”
She certainly was in trouble. Her husband (or boyfriend) had learned she was pregnant and had taken off. The landlord had told her to get out but wouldn’t let her take her few sticks of furniture because no rent had been paid. She had come downtown looking for help, but none of the three agencies she talked to could do anything that day.
I’m not a counselor, and none was present, but I offered to make an appointment with a counselor for the following day. She began to cry again. She had no money, the needle on her gas gauge was on empty, and she had no food in the apartment. We talked awhile; I gave her gas money, made up a box of food, and told her to come back for her appointment.
The young woman came back to Caring Families and talked with a counselor, who gave her what help she needed and made what arrangements were necessary. Later the counselor told me that the woman was surprised to learn that Caring Families is a Christian agency. “I didn’t know Christians would help me,” she told the counselor. “I thought they were all mean.”
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