Finding Joylin . . .

This is the story of Joylin.
It is so easy to ignore her story. Hers is the face that you see along the corners of our busy streets. Hers is the face that tries to stop you as you hurry your way to work or school. You see her eyes and quickly scan her surroundings and then you move on. You just move on. . . .

You have to move on because her eyes are calling your name. Her eyes cry out to you. And you move on to drown that cry that tugs at your heart. . .You have to move on because you know that if you stop, you will never be able to move again. You know that when you stop, and look deeper and longer into her eyes, you will want to touch her hand. You know that when you hold her hand, you will want to stroke her hair and listen to her story. You know that when you stop and listen to her story . . . your world will not be the same again. You will never be able to pass her way and not stop and know her story.

Yet on that day, you stopped. Your eyes locked with hers and you heard her call you. You stop and tried to drown the nagging voice that tells you to move on. Your eyes simply decided it all for you that day. You stopped and your world was never the same.


That is how I found Joylin.
I simply stopped walking, held her eyes in mine, held her frail hands, stroked her hair and listened to her story. And this blog is her story. . .