Following from last week, my friend ‘Jesse’, the ‘small things guy’.
So last week at the drop in, I had to call the police and ask them to remove Jesse as he would not cooperate and leave when I asked him. The reason? He was drinking (no surprise) openly (not allowed) and blatantly (not allowed) and was not showing respect to the church where we house our drop in (the biggest offense), neither did he respect the staff and volunteers who make things work.
I was hurt – OK, so I know it’s not about me – but it pained me that my ‘friend’, who in his last letter from jail called me his ‘Best Friend’ walked and stomped all over me (not literally) and our friendship (I thought).
He left the premises last week only when Ottawa’s finest escorted him out – no problem.
So my week goes on and I think about Jesse a lot, and our friendship, and wonder how badly it’s been violated. Then I’m looking through my shirts and I find one that I think Jesse would like and bring it to the drop in, thinking I would meet him there today.
On the way it struck me that Jesse would not remember even one of the details of our encounter last week. Nothing.
Staff called to tell me he had arrived at the drop in and I came shortly afterwards.
We connected. I gave him a shirt. He liked it. I told him I loved him, and he knew that. I told him he was not respectful last week and I had to call the police. What?? he said. Didn’t remember a thing. Truly. We hung out for a while and he said he would help me with the memorial service to come later that day. It was a new day. Fresh start. My Best Friend. Again.
So what to do? Life goes on. Hold things lightly. Hold others with a firm grasp. Never let go of hope. Never give up on people. Love unconditionally – people need to be loved.
Question: What about the seventy times seven plus one? Does love ever draw the line?
PS (and unrelated): It’s not too late to join our Urban Intervention Training for new volunteers: next session Feb 6. 2014