The Inspiring Story of a Woman Who Taught Me About Faith...And she loves Zora
- Pamela D. Marshall
- Feb 16
- 4 min read
Imagine wishing you could buy someone a tiny home, just to give them shelter from the streets. That's how I felt about Amy, a gentle soul I've known for over a decade. Her story isn't just heartbreaking; it's a wake-up call to our shared humanity. And here's the twist: this homeless woman loves Zora Neale Hurston with a passion that rivals any literary scholar.
It all started on a spring morning at Depot Park in Gainesville. I was out for a 5K run when I spotted her splashing water on her face at a fountain. Something about her energy pulled me back after the race. "Hi, I'm Pam," I said. With a soft, musical voice, she replied, "Oh hi, I'm Amy."
We chatted, and I learned she spent summers hitchhiking to Asheville, North Carolina, to escape Florida's heat. "Aren't you afraid?" I asked, wide-eyed. She shrugged nonchalantly: "The Creator takes care of me. I'm just doing what the Pilgrims did, sleeping outside."
In that moment, Amy held up a mirror to my own fears, showing me the depth of her faith.
Encounters That Changed Me: When a Homeless Woman Loves Zora
Over the years, our paths crossed often. I'd share money or food, and once, she even joined me for a podcast interview. Amy voiced her worries about Florida laws criminalizing homelessness, fears that proved true. "Where will you go?" I asked. "I guess in the woods," she said simply.
Every cold snap or temperature drop, I'd think of her: Is she warm? Safe? Fed? At 54, Amy's life had been shaped by unimaginable mental and physical trials, yet her spirit remained gentle and wise.
One chilly Gainesville evening, I spotted her at a bus stop, bundled with all her possessions. I made a quick U-turn, honked, and waved her over. As she climbed into my SUV, tears welled up in my eyes. "Amy, I've been thinking about you. Are you okay?"
With eyes closed and hand raised gently, she said, "I'm fine. Just think of me as... the Creator is taking care of me."
We headed to IHOP, her choice. On the way, I offered a hotel room for the night. "That would be nice," she replied softly.
At the restaurant, menus in hand, my mind raced with my to-do list: Zora rehearsals, marriage counseling, an upcoming wedding ceremony. But what filled Amy's thoughts? I had to know.
As the waitress approached, Amy ordered orange juice, coffee, water with lots of ice, pancakes, eggs, and bacon. I suggested an extra meal to go. Then, conversation turned magical.
"You know, I'm working on a one-woman show about Zora Neale Hurston," I shared. Before I could finish, Amy lit up: "I love her! I read that book... Their Eyes Were Watching God. I felt so connected, the characters living in nature, the storm, the Native Americans' warnings. She had to kill her husband after the rabies bite. And the movie with Halle Berry!"
She shook her head. "Zora was a really good writer, but they didn’t pay her what she was worth. She died with nothing. That was wrong."
My heart swelled. Here was a homeless woman who loves Zora, speaking like one of Zora's folk heroes, earthy and profound. Zora herself would have cherished Amy, just as she interviewed Cudjo Lewis or wrote about the poor in Seraph on the Suwannee.
A Prayer That Shifted My World
When our food arrived, I suggested blessing it. Reluctantly, I asked if she'd like to lead. "Sure," she said, bowing her head reverently.
"Dear Mother Earth, we thank you for this bountiful food. Thank you for always giving us more. Thank you for the animals that made the sacrifice so we can have food to eat. Amen."
I confess, I didn't close my eyes. I watched this precious soul, overlooked by so many, deliver words of wisdom. "You thanked Mother Earth," I noted.
"Yes," she explained. "We wouldn’t have a world without the soil of Mother Earth. That's where we get our food, and the animals get theirs. So I always thank her."
In that instant, Amy became my teacher. Zora once wrote, "The one who interprets nature is held in great honor." Amy embodied that, fluent in Source, living close to the Earth, listening, trusting, giving thanks.
Lessons from Amy: Going Through It with Grace
We often chase comfort to find peace, but Amy shows us it's found by going thru it—uncertainty, brokenness, the hand life deals, while staying connected to Source.
How do we honor people like Amy if we never pause to see them? Labels like "homeless" or "mentally ill" blind us to their humanity. Zora would call Amy "the honored one who interprets nature", fluent in the Source we've forgotten.
Amy, with her IHOP drinks, her prayer to Mother Earth, and her love for Zora, is a friend I'm honored to know.
Pause and reflect: Where is Source speaking to you right now, in your body, nature, or someone overlooked? This week, interrupt your routine to listen... and breathe through it intentionally.
Get Involved: Safety First, Impact Always
Not everyone is an Amy, but you can help. Volunteer at shelters, serve meals, or attend recovery meetings. In Gainesville?
Share your story! Email me at pameladmarshall247@gmail.com about an "Amy" in your life or a group you support. I'd love to hear from you.
What wisdom have you gained from unexpected encounters? Drop your thoughts in the comments below, let's inspire each other! Join our B12 Recovery meeting Tuesdays at 2:00 pm (ET) at the GTEC Building, 2153 SE Hawthorne Road. If this message stirs something deep within you, I welcome you to dive into the Go Thru It movement. No matter if it's inherited trauma, systemic injustice, reclaiming your identity, or the heavy burden of ancestral stories left unspoken, there is a sacred path thru it all. And waiting on the other side?
True resilience. Deep peace. Profound healing. Lasting freedom.
Uncover resources to guide your own journey toward peace:
Remember, you're not walking this path alone. Let's go thru it together, forgiveness awaits, and peace is your birthright.
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