He is sitting amongst his stuff. A worn out shopping bag. A folding camp chair. A backpack...

 
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Dear Anonymous,

He is sitting amongst his stuff. A worn out shopping bag. A folding camp chair. A backpack slipping off his shoulders. Hood up and head down.
He waits for others to get their coffee cards. Their socks. And then he hands this to me.
'A gift for you.' he says without fanfare. Without the other guys seeing it. They have since left.
'For you.' which I translate here as to 'us'. To Dear Anonymous.

I believe, but I am in no way certain, this is a statuette of the Hindi Goddess Durga, also incarnated as Kali, Bhagvati, Ambika...and more. She is known as the embodiment of feminine and creative energy. The protective mother of the universe. Multi limbed, (eight arms) she is prepared to do battle from any direction. And yet she sits quietly in lotus position. Two of her hands, palm pressing to palm in front of her heart. If there are folks more intimately familiar with Hindi or maybe Tibetan Buddhist iconography I'd love your clarification.

He seems to be unaware of any story at all. He simply bought it 'off a homeless person', he tells me. To offer as a gift. And so like the streets, she is broken in many places. Hands and fingers missing. But still she persists. Doing what she can even with many of her weapons missing.

I imagine him, he who really struggles to put a card in his pocket, who repeatedly fumbles placing socks in his backpack, he who can barely find his own pocket to put the wrapped coffeecake in....imagine him carrying this porcelain goddess with him on the streets. He who is challenged to hang onto that chair. That bag. His mind some days.
I simply cannot imagine how he has managed this.
With great humility I accept it from him. For all of us. Him included.
All of us out trying to protect the universe with a calm heart and broken fingers and missing parts.
Totally humbled.