A Prayer for Martha Jones

No, it's not her real name, but the real Martha came into my family's life close to 40 years ago. Every morning back then she would ride the bus into our subdivision and, depending on which day of the week it was, would work in a different neighbor's home as a domestic. Most of the families had 3-7 young children, and not even a 1960's stay-at-home mom could keep up with the laundry and household cleaning unassisted. Hence, the hard-working Martha. My mom's "day" for Martha was Monday, but sometimes the neighbors would make other arrangements. "We have family coming over Tuesday; can we switch Martha days with you?"

Martha was, and is, a steadfast and honest woman. She has continued to work for the same families, long after their children had their own families.

Martha has known tragedy. Her son, a single parent with a teenaged daughter, was struck and killed while riding his bicycle to work. So Martha took her grandchild in, and kept ironing clothes and mopping floors in other people's houses to help her and eventually a great-grandchild.

I last saw Martha a week ago Monday at my mother's home in suburban New Orleans. Her thinning hair, still mostly black, was combed straight and close around her head. Wearing an old housecoat, she was pushing a vacuum cleaner. Did my mom still need Martha's help? Probably not. Did Martha, at seventy-five, still need the work? Probably so. When I got the car keys to bring Martha to her bus stop, she had changed into a dignified suit, and wore a carefully maintained wig. But even then, she stopped before getting into the car to take the emptied trash bins from the curb and put them in place.

Where is Martha today? Is she with her granddaughter and great-grandchild on the overpass of I-10, waiting to be evacuated to Houston? Was she sweltering in the Superdome? Is she still in her tiny house, trying to find a way to dry ground? Someone like Martha, working into her old age, surely didn't have anyplace else to go. What will she do to make ends meet, now that the families she worked for over 40 years' time cannot go back home, and may not have homes to go back to? How many more Marthas are there in the nameless crowds of displaced persons?