Crazy Hat Lady Research Paper

Crazy Hat Lady
Among the homeless community, there are some interesting individuals. Some of them push shopping carts full of things, others are just plain crazy; but one lady specifically wore crazy hats all year long. She would always come to the soup kitchens I was volunteering at. The people at the dinner would stare and laugh at “the crazy hat lady,” and I didn’t understand their reasoning. Not one person spoke to her when she walked up to the food line, not one person looked at her when she was searching for a seat. She decided to sit alone in the corner until I sat down beside her and smiled.
Every Thanksgiving, my family and I would go volunteering at the Elgin Food Network. Over the years, I noticed this woman that everyone called “crazy hat lady.” She was a heavy set woman who pushed an old Jewel-Osco shopping cart filled with interesting hats of all shapes and colors. I always felt sorry for her because she was shy, but there was something about her that made me curious.
One year, I realized that this woman was so much more than a label that was given to her by the

volunteers. She skipped up to the line and this big smile crossed her face. As she made her way down the line, her smile disappeared because the people serving cranberry sauce and bread were whispering and laughing. As she was making her way to her lonesome table, I glared at the volunteers, ripped off my gloves and followed her. She sat down, and I sat beside her. She looked at me like I had three eyes while I introduced myself.
After all these years, I finally found out the story behind the crazy hat lady.

Curious about her life, Doris opened up to me. She was born in St. Cloud, Minnesota, and moved to Elgin when she was about nineteen because her father got a new job. She came from a lower class family and thought Illinois would give her a chance at a new life. She didn’t go to college because of that, so she decided to move out and share a small apartment with her older sister, Margo. Months later, before her parents passed away, her father gave her a beautiful red sun hat with plastic baby's breath on the rim, which sparked her passion for hats. After the death of her parents, Margo got married and moved to Denver, Colorado. She was granted the apartment and a little bit of money that her brother- in-law loaned to her. She used it up on utilities and electric bills and was evicted weeks after the money ran

out.
Following the eviction, she floated from homeless shelter to couches of friends. The only bit of her family was that red sun hat and she never let it out of her sight. She then started collecting hats that she found at the different shelters and carried them in a rickety Jewel-Osco shopping cart. I don’t think that anyone at that soup kitchen would have predicted this blossoming friendship, but once people open up, it’s hard not to. I shared my life and we connected over some strange details, but that is what made her so understanding.
After I finished with Doris, people realized that she wasn’t as strange as her appearance. They started to come up and offer her coffee and cupcakes and even hugs. This was only the beginning for her. Every soup kitchen after our conversation, you hear her laughing and sharing stories. Not only did I make a friend, Doris now has a family.