To the woman in the tent.

It happened a couple of months ago.

I was stuck in the Bristol traffic. A typical Tuesday. As I sat there trying my hardest to practice gratitude instead of losing my peace (or something else!), a tent piqued my interest.

Whilst not an unusual sight in this city, where the wealth gap, housing prices, and rent are ever increasing, I hadn’t seen one in that spot before, and usually, tents are close to other tents. But you were alone.

You had managed to find a corner, sheltered from the wind and rain, slightly hidden, but near some hotels. Perhaps this was the ‘safest’ place you could find.

To the woman in the tent.

One morning, as I was sat there again, I saw you emerge with sleepy eyes. We looked about the same age.

Then I remembered the statistic: the average age of death for a homeless woman in the UK is 43. Only a few years to go. What a thought to have.

I was starting my day. And you were starting yours. Two women in Bristol. Perhaps that’s where the similarities ended.

To the woman in the tent.

Every morning, I glance to my right to see if you’re still there. What would I do if you weren’t? What could I do if you weren’t?

There are so many things I wonder about you. What’s your name? Where did you grow up? What’s happened to you? Where are your family? Do you have friends? Does anyone care about you? Have you been hurt? I hope not, but reality tells me you probably have. Either in your childhood, or on the streets, or both. What do you do all day? Do you know about the places that can help you? Do you know about Spring of Hope? How can you survive in a tent over the winter? Have the outreach team found you? Have you turned down help because you’re scared of people?

On and on and on my mind goes. So many unanswerable questions.

To the woman in the tent.

Stupidly, I think ‘are you ok?’ Obviously not.

Week after week, you accumulate more things that are scattered around the tent, but always in an orderly fashion. Umbrellas, water bottles, suitcases, a bike, a clothes dryer and a trolley. I guess, for now, this is your home.

To the women in the tent.

What can I do for you? A question once asked by Jesus to a blind person. What an obvious question to ask. You need a proper home, not a tent.

‘To the woman in the tent’ was written by our Senior Communications Officer, Sarah Luckwell.

If you come across someone who is sleeping rough and you don’t know what to do, have a look at one of our previous articles that gives you advise and helpful people to get in touch with: https://www.inhope.uk/news/how-to-help-someone-who-is-sleeping-rough/.

Find out more about our female shelter, Spring of Hope: https://www.inhope.uk/our-venues/spring-of-hope/

If you would like to make a donation to help women at our shelter, please follow this link: https://www.inhope.uk/donate/

Image: Getty Images