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In 1984, I met a 75-year-old woman who was living in a Volkswagen van, often parked by Rainbow Park.
She was not a complainer or prone to self-pity. She said once that she was content with her two cats, one dog, a rubber plant and a revolver under her pillow.
She was reluctant to seek assistance, but with much encouragement, she accepted a more comfortable last act.
The nation had come through the doldrums of the 1970s and the turmoil of the 1960s. The poverty rate among seniors stood at 14 percent, the same as today. But with more than 55 million seniors, it is estimated that more than 18 million are "elder orphans," those who live without a caretaker.
Our friend with the unpermitted revolver and stunted rubber plant was, however, wealthy with good health, high spirits and a sense of humor. More than we can say about many of today's seniors. Especially those who are alone.
How a nation treats its children, seniors and prisoners reveals the activity of its soul in the world; its long-term viability; and the nature of its destiny.
We seem to have forgotten an obvious and fundamental fact: That we all share a common source; the substance of blood through which life manifests; spiritual opportunity and destiny; and the difficulties of life. Nor have we been taught that kindness to strangers, rather than a sacrifice, affords an opportunity to neutralize bad karma.
Raphael O'Suna
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