Mr. A spent all of yesterday laboring on his house. The landlord has provided some work crews and even disobeyed his insurance company by starting repairs before the adjuster could inspect the property. I took some pictures of his treasures as they were scooped up and tossed away.
At dusk the crews were gone but Mr. A was still working. The house was scraped clean save for one single item near the gaping hole where a window used to be. I almost lost it when I saw the title on that case.
Neighbors have came by with clothing and promises to help Mr. A recover. He wiped away a tear as he expressed his amazement at being so loved in our little community.
When it started to sleet last night I looked out to discover him still working alone in the darkness. I took him a bottle of his favorite wine and two glasses (one for the friend he is staying with) in hopes it would help him sleep and begged him to get out of the weather. He promised me that he would be done shortly so I went back inside.
When I went to bed hours later I could still hear him working in the darkness.
This morning I was awakened by the work crews as they started tearing out the infrastructure on his home. Mr. A said he had gotten some sleep but that it was fitful. From the stress on his face it was obvious that everything was finally sinking in. He grieved the loss of his collections, his treasures, his library of books and movies. He angrily cast about for blame in the pain of his situation.
This is really hard on Mr. A. While I’ve told you that he is special I’ve not explained just how special he really is. To protect his privacy all I can say is that he is disabled and hope that you can understand. His things are very precious to him: every book, every movie, every little piece and part he’d collected over the years.
He is far from wealthy; I believe that a good portion of his income comes from the little things he recycles. His friend is supposed to be helping him get a few things to recover but I’m not sure if she is going to deal with the Red Cross or what. Honestly, I’m trying not to pry (at least too much).
I’ve received several requests from those who wish to help Mr. A recover. To respond to those requests I’ve created a donation button for him here. He doesn’t know I’m doing this but every penny donated on this site will be given to him in cash. If you want, we can set a specific time for donations to be gathered and I can photograph him receiving the money to prove that he has received it. I’ve never done any type of fundraising before so if there is a better way please let me know!
Here is the button I made specifically for him below, but if anyone uses ANY of the donation buttons on this website this month and the next I will give all of the donations to him. Also, I will pass along any messages you have for him if you include them with the donations or email me at annie(at)annienygma.com (replace the (at) with @. Just place “Message for Mr. A” in the subject line and I will print it out for him.
I am holding off on providing him with material items currently as he has no place to put them. The friend he is staying with lives in a very small home (the same size as mine, actually) so he cannot store much there. I am in hopes of scraping him a computer together when he gets settled back into his home, as his computer provided him with one of his greatest pleasures, that of watching movies and documentaries online. I’m also starting to make a mental list of things here that I will share with him depending upon his situation when he moves back in his place.
While I know the landlord may never read this, I want to send a prayer of gratitude for everything that he is doing to get Mr. A back in his home. I am literally amazed at how quickly he is working! For those of you who pray, please thank the Creator for this man!
After I publish this I am going to lay down and hopefully take a nap. Between this and Katie’s illness I have hit the wall emotionally. All is well, though–Mr. A is still here and tomorrow is another day.
Thank you for being there,