Beauty and Pain

So a beautiful thing happened on Tuesday. A woman I have gotten to know and love over the years, L. has been on the street for a while. Her and her boyfriend always stay outside, she's loved by many at Sanctuary and knows she can come in and stash her stuff wherever, have a shower, grab a nap on the couches, etc... she just feels really at home. She's a major tomboy, well theres not really a choice when you're on the street, and she doesn't want to be mistaken for 'that' kind of girl. Apparently her and her boyfriend know the property manager for the 2nd cup plaza down the street from Sanctuary. I saw her and some guy unloading trays of flowers from his van on Tuesday... I went back in a few minutes to see what was going on. He's decided to give her a chance - he's put her on payroll for the summer and it's her job to plant and maintain the flowers in the big garden pots in the front and in the back of the plaza. It was really really beautiful to see her being creative, gentle, and feeling then purposeful and accomplished. I visited her throughout the afternoon as she made her way through the different pots she was arranging. She would ferociously dig out all the weeds, then very carefully and gently arrange and plant the new young flowers. She commented that people often call her a crackhead... and look what she was doing now. It's so true... even 'crackheads' are capable of creating restoration and beauty... the whole experience really opened her up as she shared about her family and her life in ways I'd never heard her talk about. I thank God the property manager had the heart to give her a chance like that - what a wonderful opportunity for her. And oh is she proud of all her work... Greg was doing announcements on Wednesday before lunch at the drop-in and was like "oh yeah and L. got a job planting flowers outside the 2nd cup and everyone needs to go admire them". She blushed and just kind of stared at him... as if to wonder how he could think her work was really worth admiring. It was really beautiful... she was out watering them and planting more today when I went by. It's perfect. If you go by the 2nd cup on Yonge and Charles remember to admire them.

Yesterday at drop-in I had one of those I-am-so-incapable moments. I was sitting playing crazy eights with a a wonderful old couple when a man who doesn't speak much english but welcomes me warmly with a "hey nice to see you how are you" every week passed me a business card. I've tried talking to this man before but it just kind of turned into me guessing when i should nod or sign or mmhm because he is realy so difficult to understand. The card had on it something like "Canadian Support for Torture Victims".. I just sort of looked at him inquisitively and he stared at me and his eyes started to water... and he made a sign like someone slicing his throat and said his wife and sister were murdered. He said that in his country they were all tortured for a long time and then he was let go. And then he went silent and cried. No amount of training can really benefit you in those moments, because there is absolutely nothing I could have said that would make his pain any more bearable. So I just put my hand on his back. That was it. I couldn't even say that I was sorry... that seemed so insufficient. I just sat there with my hand on his shoulder while her cried... this man has got to be in his late 40's. When these moments happen I wonder why, or rather, HOW it is that I seem to be the one that people can confide in. And I don;'t mean to say that to boast, I mention it becuase it breaks my heart... that there isn't someone else who they can tell but the 20 year old girl who works at the drop-in center. This man has been through more pain and loss than I can even fathom... he's a hero for enduring it and continuing to smile. Yet he's gotten lost somewhere... I don't know. Eventually the couple was yelling at me that it was my turn at crazy eights and they were sick of waiting... so the man told me to go play. And that was that.