For most of my 58 years of life, I had no love for the Mid-Eastern man, nor for Muslim culture. I found both to be harsh, disrespectful and abusive towards women. I was steadfast and unshakable in this opinion - until a coworker "H" didn't call or show up to work one morning. Several hours later, the staff would be informed that "H" was hospitalized after a violent domestic attack the night before, after confessing to his family members (that he lives with)
that he wished to covert from his family's strict Muslim faith to Christianity.
His confession resulted in an almost deadly physical attack by his closet male family members - his Father, brothers and cousins. His injuries were severe. The recovery was lengthy. And he was banished from the home they shared with him, and he was banished by the family forever for even speaking this unforgivable disloyalty.
At the time, a collection was taken up on his behalf, and a few months later he would return to work. He seemed good. He seemed Ok. I didn't ask questions. I didn't get involved outside of my own modest to donation to his collection campaign. I did my part to help. At least, that's I how I felt.
During this period, I was busy doing my best to leave my own abusive relationship. I didn't have the energy or effort to get involved with his struggle. I was struggling with finding affordable housing for myself and my beloved kitty. My difficulty in securing stable housing having kept me in a volatile relationship two years longer than I wanted to be, and the strain of the abuse was starting to show on me physically and emotionally. Daily my tears and exhaustion were etching my face deeper and deeper. People were concerned. Questions were asked about my safety that I would fast-talk my way out of, or avoid answering entirely.
Then one afternoon "H" asked me "Are you Ok? Are you safe at home?" And I heard a voice in my head and heart tell me, to tell him "No." It would be the first time I would admit I wasn't to anyone; because I wasn't safe, and neither was my kitty. During a recent attack on me, my kitty had suffered a terrible ear injury as result of my partner's act of rage. His ear would never stand up straight again, and to this day, the ear continues to be problematic, requiring regular veterinary visits.
"H" would later tell me that "he had started to see and hear the signs of my abuse and the worry that was surrounding me."
His decision to get "involved" would change the tone and trajectory of my life from that day forward . Trusting "H" with my own truthful confession would start a chain events that would bring me comfort, safety and support that would alter my life completely in just 5 days.
On the morning of the 5th day, I would sign a lease on an apartment rental, with finances secured (by a work fundraising campaign) started by "H" for me. That was 2 years ago. And me and beloved kitty have been living in safety and peace ever since that beautiful 5th day.
Going forward "H" would become one of most cherished friendships and a blessing in my life.
"H" and I both work at a hospital. I work days, he works night. He is a housekeeper and I am the unit secretary. We see each other every morning at "change of shift." I (now) lovingly refer to him as my "work husband." Our morning routine includes a hug and some small talk before he leaves to go home.
One morning, after he left to "go home" to what I knew to be a shared house with several roommates, I was approached by another employee who was concerned that "H" may in fact be homeless. "H" had been seen going in and out of an obscure space, between to walls, in the attached hospital parking garage multiple times, before and after his shifts. I was aware he lived within walking distance to the hospital, because he was currently without a vehicle and needed easy access to work. But there was no reason he should be homeless. His living situation was very stable....or so I thought.
On my lunch break, I investigated the garage space, and "H's" sleeping body confirmed his homelessness. Later that evening, at shift change, when I questioned him, "H" would would explain that the house he shared with 3 other gentleman had been sold 2 months prior. "H" was in fact homeless, and he was unable to secure housing before the vacancy date had arrived. And that he had been sheltering in this space, out of the heavy Connecticut spring rains for 2 months. And that he would continue to shelter in garage, because he found the local homeless shelters, he had utilized, to be more dangerous than being homeless.
"H" stated he is grateful for this space. It keeps him out of the bad wet Connecticut spring weather and he sleeps relatively, comfortable and undisturbed. His Christian faith keeps his spirits up and he's hopeful that better days are ahead of him. His only request has been if I could kindly wash his clothes and uniforms, which I gladly do twice a week.
I want so badly to offer him the temporary shelter of my apartment, but my lease agreement forbids any additional tenants from occupying the apartment. I would jeopardize my own affordable housing if I offered him my place to stay temporarily.
"H" has suffered more than domestic abuse and homelessness. He has lost family, friends and his homeland, all of which he can never return to. He has lost the respect of other men and women in the community because he refuses to return to the Muslim faith.
"H" is devoted and fully committed to his Christian studies. His very worn Bible are a testimony to his daily devotion and dedication.
I am honored and privileged to call him a good friend.
Please help me, help rebuild the life of a wonderful, most deserving Christian man. All donations will go towards securing stable housing and some basic necessities, so that this gentle, man can continue his Christian education and way of life in safety, peace and modest comfort.
Please read. Please share. No donation is too small. 💜
Thank you all so very much for your time and consideration of this fundraiser.
Sincerely,
Kelly Murphy.
