This morning, I Met Roger Martinez, a lanky Navajo from Ganado, Arizona, who just got out of jail five days ago and is recovering from heroin
addiction. "I have a lot more money now for food," he said, with a smile. I had seen Roger before -- probably a year ago
-- on the red line Trax, coming from down from the University to downtown. We had talked, and I had found out at that time
that he was from Arizona -- from the Rez, or the Navajo Reservation -- and also that he grew up a member of the Church of
Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. He had spoken to me of his mother then, and now he spoke of her again, asking me to pray
for her to feel the Spirit to know that he was okay. It was a little weird, but by that time -- 6:55 a.m. -- most of the
commuters had found their buses and gone on their way, so we were effectively alone. The waiting buses were loud enough to
obscure what we were saying. So I did -- I said a quick prayer, asking for help for both of us to follow Jesus Christ and for his mother to feel comforted.
Roger is staying at The Road Home in Salt Lake City. It's a place for people who have no place to stay -- people like Roger,
who have just come out of jail, and are thrust into the world with no means. Often, people coming out of jail regress
because they have no support system keeping them from the same behaviors that landed them in jail in the first place. In
fact, everything about their situation combines to pull them down: their homelessness, their poverty, the (I presume) drug
use rampant in that population. There are other people dedicated to assisting the poor who live on the verge of normal society, to
help them reclaim their lost lives.
One of these people hopped on the bus at 400 West in SLC last week: she was a late-middle-aged woman with bleach-blond hair,
wearing a bright yellow vest, like a traffic-safety worker. She was headed to some factory to work a job just so she could
say to the people she helps, "If a 58-year-old woman can do it, then you can do it." She wanted to make sure that she
wasn't setting them up to fail. She had said a prayer about 30 years ago, in California, where she lived and worked until
recently, asking to help people. And now, she finally found herself in such a situation: in the thick of it, right in the
middle of things, helping the people "that can't help themselves".
And I truly believe that's who they are, and she is doing what Jesus Christ would be doing were he here. We need more
people like her to make a difference. People like her make an impact in people's lives. I wish that I could do the same,
one day, every day.
Half of The Road Home's contributions come from private contributors (the other half comes from local, state, and federal government agencies).
You can make a donation to The Road Home.
