The Parable of the Bowl of Soup-Part I
The Parable of the Bowl of Soup-Part I
By Hal Haralson, Austin, TX
The phone message said, "Hal, this is Elton Moy. I`ve been thinking about you. Call me at 505-462-XXXX."
Area 505 is New Mexico-out of my territory. The name Elton Moy was vaguely familiar. Toward the end of the day it came to me.
There were four of us standing by an open grave in the cemetery in Kenedy, Texas. The year was 1995. I read the twenty-third Psalm and said a prayer. We buried 90-year-old Lennie Pierce. The four were Mr. and Mrs. Moy, their son Elton, and I. We buried the "Bag Lady" from San Antonio.
I returned Elton`s call. "I`ve moved," he said. "I no longer live in San Antonio. I sold my restaurant and moved to Taos, New Mexico, where I manage the Taos Inn."
I was excited. "Elton, I`ll be in Taos in two weeks for a four day writing conference. Let`s get together."
Two weeks later at the Taos Inn I asked, "Elton, how did you come to know Lennie Pierce?"
Over a glass of tea, Elton unfolded this story:
"I stepped into the alley behind my restaurant in San Antonio to empty some trash. It was barely light enough to see. An old woman was going through one of my garbage cans. She did not see me and I remained very still and watched.
She would take leftover food from the garbage can and take a bite of it. If it passed the `taste test` it went into her bag for later consumption. If it did not pass, she threw it on the ground.
Her clothes were rags on top of rags. Her outfit looked like Joseph`s `coat of many colors.`
As I looked at her sad condition I made a decision that started me on a journey, which eventually led me to you at that cemetery, and now here five years after that graveside gathering.
I said to the old woman, `Would you like to come in and have a bowl of hot soup with me?` She was startled. She bent her entire body backwards so she could see me. I looked into riveting, beady eyes that were filled with distrust and hatred. No one had offered her anything in many years. She was estranged from her family and obviously had no funds. I figured her to be at least eighty years old.
Her first instinct was to escape, but the offer of hot soup was just too tempting. She came through the door and into the kitchen. After laying her bag on the floor she slowly lowered herself into a chair. She slurped up the soup. Not a word was exchanged. She left.
So began a ritual that would last for over five years and affect my life forever. Each morning when I opened the door she was waiting. `Would you join me for a bowl of soup?`
Gradually the hostile glare began to soften. On a morning six months later she uttered her first words, `My name is Lennie Pierce.`
`I am Elton Moy.`
Her story came slowly-bits and pieces. She was seventeen years old, living with her family in East Texas. `No, I can`t remember the name of the town,` she said. `It`s been so long.`
`They said I was acting funny and needed to see a doctor. They said they were taking me to a hospital for a few days so I could get help. It was in San Antonio.`
`They said good-bye and left. I was put in a large room with twenty other women. There was a bed and three meals a day.`
`I waited. No one came to get me-no one at one week, one month, many months. No letters came from my family.`
`A year passed . . . then two. Eventually I realized they weren`t coming back. I spent my days exploring the grounds of the hospital. There were fruit trees and pecan trees. I got Styrofoam cups from the cafeteria and watered the trees. As I walked the boundaries of the fifty acres an idea began to form.`
Segments of the story came faster now. Lennie even smiled when the back door to the restaurant was opened each morning.
She continued: `Ten years passed, then twenty and I lived my life within the fence that surrounded the San Antonio State Hospital for the insane. I spoke to no one. I watered plants and picked up pecans and fruit. I stole bread from the table at mealtime and hid it in my pocket. I rolled it into little balls and sat in a chair on the porch and thumped bread balls to the birds. It was my most exciting time of the day.`
`One day the attendant came in and said, Lennie, your doctor said you can leave. You are free to go!`
`It had been forty-two years, since my family left me.`
`I walked out that day to live in what they called a group home. It was small but clean. The five women I lived with didn`t bother me.`
`I continued doing what I had done for the past forty-two years. I walked . . . wandering aimlessly around the city of San Antonio.`
`I got a bag and picked food out of garbage cans and ate it when I became hungry.`
`Sometimes people threw clothes in the garbage cans. I put them on.`
`I spoke to no one. My world was within me. It wasn`t so bad.`
`Then one day my world changed. You invited me in for a bowl of soup. It was hot . . . and very good. You asked for nothing. You didn`t ask questions. I learned to trust you. You are my only friend.`"
Elton continued, "After about three years Lennie informed me that she wanted to leave the group home and live in the country. `Will you take care of that for me?` she asked, as though she had just hired a real estate agent.
Kenedy, Texas, is a small town about sixty miles southeast of San Antonio,. My parents live there. In Kenedy I found 20 acres of land, which already had electricity and could be connected to city water. The property could be bought for $2,000. In San Antonio I found an old house, which had been condemned for a right-of-way. There would be no charge to acquire the structure; however, it would cost $5,000 to have it moved to Kenedy.
I told Lennie and she got excited.
`Where do we get $7,000?` I asked.
I was stunned at her next move She looked in her bag, pulled out a checkbook and wrote me a check for $7,000!
The property was bought and the house was moved. Lennie lived in one room and used one bathroom.
She began putting seeds in the soil of her yard and watering them from a Styrofoam cup."
Elton Moty laughed as he completed this saga about his relationship with Lennie Pierce.
(To be continued in the next issue)
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