The past few months... I've been helping one of our church sister's with applying for low-income housing. Not to overshare here... but this sister is definitely in need of a professional worker - not someone like me. But... in this geo-political-economy... those walking saints are as rare as a Buffalo Nickel.
I've learned so much during these days. In time of a need... I turn to my parents for help (heh...). And cuz they have more experience in this arena. Dad coins it as... "僧多粥少." Out of desperation.. I started randomly calling and applying to any place that advertised "senior housing" or "low-income housing." Along the way... I met some angels of my own... giving me advice and hints of what to do. As I'm filling out these forms... and making these phone calls... I can't help but pry into someone's private life. Their birthday. Their social security number. Their income. Their bank accounts. There's a certain level of vulnerability that is revealed... and a certain level of trust that is established.
But this level of trust is fuzzy... is confusing. To a point where... I get 4-5 calls a day. Some of these calls are simply asking, "Did you receive my text?" On the worst day of the year... when I was tired... frustrated... sleep deprived... and I got a late night call... I had to sternly but gracefully lay down the law. "Let's talk about it tomorrow." Only to receive a call at 6:30AM.... and I was trying to sleep in. "XXXX... can you not call me so early??"
On the other end of the line... I hear sobbing. Crying. Defeated, then I ask, "How can I help you?" To get a response of... "Nevermind." (Hung up)
What to do... what to do....??
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