Not all adventures involve mountains and beautiful scenery. In fact, some involve the opposite – grimy buildings and loud city noises that most people aim to get away from. It was in this setting I experienced something I didn’t expect – a small, everyday adventure that stuck with me months after it happened, that I felt a need to write about. This is not a story I really feel comfortable bringing up randomly with people, but wanted to get it on paper to keep as a core memory.

I’d just finished a run around the Portland waterfront with friends during mid March and was heading back to my apartment in the city, when suddenly I noticed something that seemed off (not uncommon for Portland, but this seemed even more off). At the crossroad of 10^th and Glisan, I saw a short, frail elderly woman with her dog in the middle of the crosswalk, struggling to get a rather tall dolly cart across the street. The dolly wheels were stuck in the groove of the metal city car tracks, and this woman didn’t have the strength to get them out. Her dog stood by anxiously, barking softly as if trying to help. The stoplight directly above her turned green for cars to go, and it was at this moment the woman yelled for help. Coming to and realizing I was the closest person to her, I broke out of my glazed observatory state and rushed over to help push the dolly across the tracks, as cars now watched and waited for us to get out of the way. Once she was safely on the sidewalk, I felt I’d done my good deed for the day – and began to continue my walk home. That’s when she asked me to help her get to a Salvation Army center “near the Burnside bridge” about 14 blocks away…yikes. My immediate thought was, just say you have to go, you’ve helped enough. After all, it was totally normal and understandable to ignore the never-ending pleas from large homeless populations in big cities. As I turned to express this to her though, we made eye contact which I quickly averted, only to look down at her dog, a beautiful rough collie which then also looked me in the eyes. An unexpected, overwhelming sense of pity came over me in that moment that I can only imagine is what Jesus felt when the Bible describes his compassion for people (definitely not comparing myself to Jesus here). With no other plans happening for me that night, I decided I would make the trek, and if anything went sideways I could just bail. She hadn’t asked for any money or food, just help getting her heavy dolly (I’d guess maybe 50 pounds) across town. It felt uncomfortable, and I questioned whether I should be doing it while walking through some of the rougher parts of town – but knowing the city fairly well, I decided I’d do my best.

As we departed, she told me her backstory, appearing to be relatively stable and articulate. She was a Christian widow who had been transported to a bathing center in northwest Portland, but didn’t have transportation options back to the Salvation Army center in the middle of town. After 15 minutes of walking, I started feeling the weight of the dolly – I could not have imagined this small elderly woman hauling it across town, while also walking her medium-sized dog. She thanked me several times, especially as I started to struggle, and at one point asked to touch my arm, which I respectfully said no to. Our conversation branched in several directions as she talked about her faith, her backstory, and (most practically) where this shelter supposedly was. I did not have my phone on me (a rather notorious trait of mine when out on a run), so I was going directly off this woman’s instructions, hoping I would see the building when we got close.

We finally arrived at 3^rd and Ash, close to the Burnside bridge where she claimed the shelter was. After looking around in all directions though, I saw no sign of it, and started questioning whether I’d been strung along this whole time. What if this woman was actually crazy and made this whole thing up? It was getting dark and there wasn’t much time to continue walking around, especially at the slow pace we’d been going. “Stay here” I told her, after deciding I’d jog around and try to find it. Feeling in over my head at this point, I gave a short prayer asking for direction on where this place could be. I couldn’t leave this woman and her dog out in the dark like this after helping them for the last 40 minutes. It was at that moment I turned around and noticed a small line of people waiting outside a building, with a faded red sign reading “The Salvation Army.” Relief washed over me as I ran back to the woman and her dog and led them to the shelter, where they waited patiently in line to get in. She had filled my heart more than I ever thought a homeless/houseless person could. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt closer to Jesus than in that moment.