Restoring the cities, walls and people

At our drop in staff and volunteers meet early for some words of encouragement and a time of prayer.  The brief passage of Scripture was found in Isaiah 58:10-12.  From those verses came the focus question of the day: “ Is there a way we can ease someone’s troubles today?”  We decided to look for opportunities to do this.

When we opened the doors at ten o’clock, Cleary came in, sobbing.  She told us how one of her closest friends had died of a heart attack at the age of 48.  We consoled her as best we could and she was glad to receive such support. One of the staff sat beside her, held her hands and listened to the stories of her friend’s life.

As the day progressed Cleary went upstairs to the clothing section for a visit. In a few minutes we heard angry loud voices and saw that another of our ladies, Laura, was very agitated.

She told the story of how once again, that nasty lady Cleary, had grievously wronged her.  Cleary had apparently yelled at Laura in the clothing section, telling her to get out of her way!

We took Laura aside and tried to help her understand Cleary was having a bad day.  We explained about the loss of her best friend and how this was such a difficult time.  As the conversation continued, there was a softening in Laura, an understanding that was not there a few minutes ago.

Laura supposed that perhaps she had not heard Cleary properly – even admitted some loss of hearing in one ear! 

Just then, Laura’s eyes locked on someone or something immediately behind us.

Seemingly from out of nowhere, Cleary appeared.  We wondered if we would now have to break up a fight between the two women. 

What a surprise to see what happened next.  In that moment of time there was birthed a miracle.  Two ladies, whose hearts were once hardened in anger and resentment towards each other, caught up in their own worlds of pain and misunderstanding, suddenly saw and understood the pain and trouble the other woman was experiencing.

In a moment, Cleary tearfully apologized for her inappropriate tone of voice and demeanour.  She was surprised and saddened to hear that Laura had a hearing problem.  So that was why she had not moved earlier. She was so sorry. 

Laura apologized for her words and bitterness that she had earlier directed at Claudette.

The two women folded into each other’s arms in tears, forgiveness and a new  friendship.  All the anger and anxiety and hostility was washed away as two souls embraced. 

You might be interested in the verse that was shared at the beginning of the day.  “Some of you will rebuild the deserted ruins of your cities.  Then you will be known as a rebuilder of walls and a restorer of homes.” Isaiah 58:12

Amazing or what?  It’s a powerful reminder that there is a God who is deeply concerned with all of the needs, sorrows and troubles of all of His children.

Modern Day Good Samaritian

Some have asked me to print a story that Brent Daley, one of my buddies at our drop in, has written.  Here it is, with only moderate editing.  Anybody need a ghost writer?

It was the spring of 1995 when I moved back home from Calgary. I was tired after spending 15 years as a mechanical engineering technologist at the University of Calgary, but if the truth be known I was burned out.

The normal three day drive would double because of the shape I was (wasn’t) in both physically and mentally.  My aging Honda Civic was packed full and the utility trailer I was hauling had more than double it’s capacity.  I had everything I owned with me.

 An early May morning on the north shore of Lake Superior showed God’s handiwork: deep blue sky, blue lake, paper white beaches, trees in bloom – it was a picture postcard.  Highway good, no traffic, my gas tank was ¾ full with 30 miles from the last town and 20 to the next. That is when the trouble began.

 My body tensed when I heard the loud crunch and grind behind me, and I was surprised to see my right hand trailer wheel come off, pass me, jump the gravel ditch and come to rest on the tree line.   Of course I immediately pulled over into the gravel and stopped. I went for a walk to retrieve the tire as I had no spare and took it back to the car. Upon further inspection I discovered that the complete wheel had pulled off the trailer, right over the wheel nuts. The bolt holes on the wheel had become enlarged to accomplish this. What to do?

 I sat on the trunk of the car to ponder my predicament. While I was having a smoke and a think, a car came along in the opposite direction. His brakes lights indicated he was stopping, and a quick U-turn confirmed his intention.  I was alone with a considerable amount of cash with me so I was a little leery of the situation. I noticed that there was a man driving and a woman in the passenger seat knitting. I felt a little more at ease. The man got out of his car and approached me asking what the problem was. I explained to him about the wheel and how it had come off. He asked me if I had tools, a jack for the trailer and some washers in the tool box which I assured him I did. He said “Come on and I will give you a hand to fix the problem.”

 He and his wife had been vacationing in Toronto, now on route home to  Thunder Bay. He was a motor mechanic and his wife was a registered nurse. Within 20 minutes he had the wheel back on the trailer, using the washers to have the nuts hold the wheel in place. He made the wheel spin true and jacked the trailer down.  Ready to go. I put the tools and jack back in my trunk and went to shake his hand.

 “What do I owe you for your time and help?” I asked.

 “Well, let me tell you.  Last night I hit a patch of water on the highway near Barrie.  I lost control of the car and it jumped the ditch.  Both front tires were blown on impact.  A farmer came along and pulled me out of the ditch, went and got his pickup truck and took me into Barrie to purchase new tires. When we returned to the car the farmer helped me install the new wheels and I asked him that same question you just asked me.”

“He told me that I owed him nothing, but that if I was given the opportunity I should do a similar kindness for someone else. I have now done that and what you owe me is to pass it along”.

 I have often thought of that mechanic and the help he gave me out in the middle of the northern Ontario wilderness that fine morning in May. I have had opportunity to pass along the favor many times. It has always struck me that if everyone in the world treated each other the way he treated me this would be a much better place to live.

 Brent Daley, July, 2010

Word from the Drop In

Speaking with Brent at the drop in last week, I discoverd he had an aptitude and interest in writing.  I asked him to write about our Wednesday drop in and describe from the front lines, what it was like.  Without editing, here is his report:

One of the best kept secrets amounge people of limited income, who live in Ottawa, is the Ottawa Innercity Mission’s (OIM’s) Wednesday Drop-in. I have been a semi-regular at these drop-in’s since before they took up residence at their present location. I will try to explain here most of the reasons for my attendance at this particular function..

 The drop-in is held every Wednesday year round at their new location on Gladstone Ave. between Bank and Kent streets.in the Salvation Army Church building and easily accessible by several OC Transpo bus routes. It is free and open to everyone who cares to attend. I like to attend because of the relaxed atmosphere which is well organized, clean, well maintained and usually quite quiet and very well run. Although OIM is a Christian based organization, there is no lectures, chapel services or religious readings at these drop-ins. The people who attend maintain an atmosphere which is quite controlled, friendly and easy going. Staff members and volunteers mix freely with the patrons. There are several aspects to the program throughout the day which I will explain here.

 The door is open at at 10:00 am and the entire building is utilized. The first 25 people through the door are offered food bank tickets, which I will come to in a moment. On the lower level coffee, tea, milk and juice are available all day. At opening time there is a selection of breads, muffins, cookies and the like (breakfast) available. People gather in groups to talk, play cards or other games, read or just generally socialize. It is a great place to meet old friends or make new ones. At noon a hot meal is served at the tables and there is always enough food that seconds are regularly offered The volunteers serve up the food and everyone is encouraged to eat their fill. After lunch is served the volunteers and staff usually circulate throughout the room offering a selection of sandwiches and some type of desert. Promptly at 1:00pm one of the staff members begins to call numbers for the food bank offerings and groceries are distributed in an orderly fashion. Many people stay on to chat, socialize and play cards until 3:00 in the afternoon.

 On the second level there is a barber who, on a first come first served basis, will cut your hair for free. Rudy usually does between 12 and 15 haircuts throughout the day but he does take the summer months off. There is also a foot care clinic there where you can get your feet cleaned and once dried you will receive a new pair of socks. A chiropractic doctor is available afternoon for those who need his services.

 The third level of the building has a room which offers a selection of used clothing and footwear. This is quite popular first thing in the morning as that is when selection is best. If you can’t find what you want, come back again next week as there are always new offerings available.

 All in all OIM runs a great, fun, safe and much appreciated program. I would encourage everyone of limited means to come out and participate in a great weekly event. It is well worth the price of admission. 

 Hope this meets your needs.  I will get the other article bout the good samaritan written this afternoon or evening.  I am making preperations to get away for the weekend so am very busy.  Cheers.

Brent

 If you would like to read Brent’s article about the good samaritan, let me know by responding to this blog.  Cheers!

100% Success Rate at OIM!!

 ‘So what kind of success rate do you have with people?’  I looked at this person while a whirlwind of thoughts raced around in my head, almost like the dog chasing his tail.

My friend was thinking there might be a 3%, or maybe 5% success rate – where a person who lives in abject poverty, on the streets, ‘recovers’ and breaks the cycle of poverty, gets a job, an apartment, a family and all the other trappings that accompany the ‘Canadian dream’.

My mind flashed to people that I knew on the streets: people that had been sexually abused for many years as children and who had articulated these abuses only after living with them in silence for over 20 years;  I thought of others who were trapped in the dark cycle of drug and alcohol addiction which started as self-medication to deal with the beatings received from father, mother, step-parent or whoever; then of the teenage girl who brought her new born baby to the drop in for help, looking for someone – anyone who might show her real love, because in her experience people had only used her as if she were a piece of meat, a commodity that could be sold, rented or used.

All this raced through my mind in just a few seconds, with my friend waiting for an answer to his probing question.

‘One hundred percent,’ I replied, ‘We have a 100% success rate.’

His mouth dropped open in disbelief.  ‘What??  How??’

‘Each time we hand out a sandwich, or sleeping bag, or pair of socks, we build relationship with people who have never had relationship before.  It brings someone a step closer to a time when a light will come on and they will make better decisions and life choices.’

Some agencies count their ‘success’ by the number of plates served at a shelter or drop in (not withstanding that many folks will have five helpings!), or the number of people who attend a chapel service in order to receive a meal ticket, or the number of youth who will participate in a ‘project’ so as to make them eligible to receive services.

We count the number of positive interactions we have with our street friends at our drop in services or on the street through outreach.  It’s all about relationship (and 100% success).

NEW!! Chiropractic Care at the Drop In

Just a few weeks ago we initiated chiropractic care at our drop in.  What an amazing outreach!

Dr. Greg Payne from Ottawa came to us last fall and offered his services to our guests at the drop in.  He took our Urban Intervention Training, and just a few weeks ago, he came with his portable adjustment table and a heart to serve the poor.  Calm and unassuming, Dr. Payne spends time with each of our street friends who are suffering in their bodies, and makes appropriate chiropractic adjustments.

What a hit!  Our street friends have warmly accepted the treatments and the kindness of the good doctor.  More than ‘treating patients’, Dr. Payne genuinely cares for each of his new patients.

No hassles.  No appointments.  No penetrating ‘interview’ about the history of each injury.  No fees.

I sat and watched for three or four of the treatments. Dignity, respect, compassion and help are the mainstays of this new development at Ottawa Innercity Ministries.  When things slowed down somewhat, I took time to visit with the doctor and noticed the sign up sheet had two columns: ‘New patients’ and ‘Returning Patients’.  Interesting that the ‘Returning Patients’ had more names – probably about twenty-eight in all.

Words of appreciation warmly spoken.  One man just could not believe that he could feel so much better immediately after his first treatment!

Some of the participants moved right from the chiropractic table over to the Touch Care area and enjoyed a relaxing light back massage.

I marveled at the beauty of it all: people sharing their gifts and talents and abilities with those in need.  At the other side of the room, two volunteers were doing foot care and Rudy was faithfully cutting hair at the entrance to the room. 

We have been given so much.  When I see how others ‘Pay it Forward’, it strikes a chord deep in my own heart.  It just seems so just, so right, so good to pool our resources and do what we can to change our own, and others’ worlds.

How do you think you could do your part, with your own gifts and talents?  Call me.  We can talk.

The Power of Volunteers

 As we work among people experiencing poverty and homelessness, we have discovered an unusually powerful component that has become one of the foundations of our outreach – volunteers.

It never ceases to amaze me how people will leave the warmth and comfort of their homes and families and brave all elements to ensure that the relationships they have established with their friends on the streets or at one of our drop in programs, are maintained and strengthened.  Truly amazing.

Our street friends notice!  They are students of human behavior.  They watch people all day, and can quickly tell the difference between an imitation and the real thing.  Volunteers are in this latter category.  If there were such a thing, our street friends would each qualify for an honorary Ph.D. degree in the study of human behavior.  They know when someone is ‘out to help’ for selfish, personal reasons or because they genuinely care.  This is the power of a volunteer.

We have our Urban Intervention Training program three times a year, and a volunteer social typically occurs at the conclusion of these training sessions.  It gives the new volunteers an opportunity to meet with people who are experienced in the area, and it also provides increased opportunities to meet new people with similar interests.

Tonight was great.  Our BBQ social was a great success.  People were talking and laughing while meeting new friends and hearing our stories.  The food was great, but the friendships – ah- that’s the thing.

We model genuine transparent relationships with each other and then take it to the streets.  Seasoned volunteers, new graduates, staff and work skills participants all pulling together to move this mountain called ‘homelessness’, and making a difference – one person at a time.

Ever wanted to be a part of a group that together was doing something so much bigger than any of us could do alone?  Come and join our team of volunteers.  You can make a difference!

Two Different Worlds

Two Different Worlds

In Vancouver for the Roundtable on Poverty and Homelessness meetings this past week, I took opportunity to cross the water and go downtown.  Outside eating a bagel breakfast in Yaletown, the city was waking.  I saw some BMW’s, Jags and even a Rolls Royse Silver Shadow coming and going in preparation for the day.  One billboard for condos particularly struck me, with the scale of prices listed, starting at only $499,000 to $6 million.  I wonder what the condo fees are for a six million dollar condo.

Things changed as I headed for the East Side.  The route I took didn’t gradually change from rich to poor, it was paff! – Poverty all at once.  Extreme and systemic this poverty was unlike any I had ever seen in Canada.  Similar elements everywhere, but all dwarfed by the overwhelming intensity of concentration. 

People experiencing homelessness and abject poverty, everywhere, in overwhelming numbers.  Laying on the streets, sometimes beside grocery carts that looked like they were just filled from the town dump, people with nowhere to go, nothing to do, nothing to look forward to were ‘just there’.  Folks with mental health issues mumbling to themselves, ranting incessantly, many just staring into nothingness.  Milling in small groups or lined up along the walls of buildings at the back edge of the sidewalks, people seemed to be waiting for something or nothing.

I found myself at Carnegie Centre, corner of East Hastings and Main at the Carnegie Community Centre.  It was a library, a drop in, and a multi-service facility.  Some fellows were playing pool downstairs, small groups of men drinking coffee and reading free newspapers.  Outside was a patio with a five foot rod iron fence around it. I bought a coffee and sat with the guys on the patio.  So far, at the Centre it was ‘regular’ and expected, but what happened next was not.

Outside the patio, on the street, the wheelers and dealers were doing business.  I have never seen intensity of drugs and dealing drugs with such blatant disregard for anything or anyone.  I watched for over an hour as people came and went, rolls of money changed hands, pills or packages exchanged and notes taken – who was fronted what.  Dealers would swagger over with John Wayne walk and ‘in your face’ make deals and bargains: its business, working the streets, its Wall Street, East Hastings and Main Street style.

I stayed too long.  The layers of depravity and disregard for human dignity were overwhelming.  Working girls paid their pimps, got some drugs and stagger away to the next trick.  Addicts trying to get more drugs on front, with pleas and promises of pay back. No concern or care – just business.

I walked outside and stood on the corner.  In just minutes I was ignored and in the midst of the whole scene.  Fifteen feet removed from the patio view, an entirely different set of players – the same game.  Across the street the same thing.  I walked to west to the next corner – more.  Further west to the recycling depot where people lined up with shopping carts of looted bottles and cans – more.  I crouched and leaned against the wall and watched – same performance, different players.  It was time to go.

Two blocks further and business, tourism and commerce ruled once again.  Back to the Beamers, Jags and Porches.  Prosperity and blessing.  Construction and gentrification. 

The impact of the 2010 Winter Olympics still imprinted on downtown Vancouver, but something very different imprinted on my heart and mind.  I am still reeling in the aftershock.

Violation of Sacred Trust

“Of all people, you should know better.”  His words pierced my soul.   These words and this day will be burned in my mind forever.  Seven years ago, but it seems like yesterday.

I had just started with OIM and everything seemed like chaos.  I guess it was chaos for me, trying to balance everything, be fair, help people, and do intervention in a culture that was strange to me, potentially explosive – all the time.

About 200 people at the drop in on a hot summer afternoon.  I was watching two men: one of them was pacing the floor across the room strung out on drugs and aggressive.  Probably crystal meth, I thought.  Crystal meth was in abundance on the streets – not good.  It’s the kind of drug that can make you feel invincible, feel no pain (literally), and you can become aggressive.

The other man was using, maybe some blend of alcohol mixed with prescription drugs – he was having a heated argument, with no one, someone or anyone.  Have to keep an eye on him.

Another man comes up to me and engages me in conversation.  In just a few short minutes, he has told me some of the highlights of his unbelievably traumatic life.  His earliest memories seeped in torment, a childhood of abuse, loss and damage  so severe that it’s almost unimaginable.

Across the room the ‘pacer’ has a violent verbal outburst and I look to see who is the target.  Then immediately to my left the second man throws a wild punch into the air- trying to keep his invisible tormentors at bay.

The man in front of me says, “I can see you are too busy for me.  I’m going to go.”

Cut to the quick.  I quickly explain: the guy across the room, the guy to my left, I’m in charge, so sorry, I want to hear you, I am listening, but things are happening…

“You’re in charge here?  Of all people you should know better. I’m going to go, you have no time for me.”  He turned and walked out, ignoring my desperate pleas to remain and give me another chance that I really didn’t deserve.

Burned on my memory, I had done the greatest misdeed that could be done to someone who was in the midst of crisis – in a  moment of confession where all he needed was a friend to listen.  Too busy, preoccupied, otherwise engaged when I should have been engaged – with him.

People experiencing poverty and homelessness, living on the streets have two things they have complete control over, that they can choose to give or not: one is their real name, the other is their story.  If someone gives you their real name and their story, they have given you everything.

A violation of a sacred trust: a lesson I will never forget.