Hugs

Our first opening stretch of the season lasted four nights.  We'd had a pretty consistent core group of guests and it was starting to feel very comfortable and a bit like family.  On the last night we were open "Will" arrived later than normal telling us that his father had just passed away.  He'd learned this by seeing his father's obituary in the morning paper.  Like many of our guests, Will's estranged from his family.  Last season, we offered Christmas cards to our guests, saying they could fill them out and we'd mail them, but not one of them took us up on the offer.

People offered their condolences to Will, shaking his hand or giving him a hug.

In the obituary, Will saw his own name listed along with the names of his siblings and  relatives, some of whom he'd never met or heard of.  And he learned that his Dad had died just two days after Will's birthday.  I wondered if Will had thought of his Dad on his birthday, or if his Dad had thought of Will on his deathbed.

In the kitchen that evening, one of our new volunteers mentioned that she volunteers at BC Women's Hospital cuddling newborn babies.  She cuddles babies whose mothers are unable to cuddle them, often because they are active addicts.    I wondered if any of our guests started life without the warmth of a mother's love or how a loving, healing hug from a kind volunteer may have changed the course of their lives.

As I was leaving for home at the end of the evening, I saw in the rear-view mirror a figure running out from the shelter, waving his arms.  It was Will.  I stopped and we talked some more.  He told me that he'd read about his dad just before he attended Sunday service at his church.   The pastor learned of his loss and made an announcement to the congregation.   Afterwards, many people came up to him -- some he'd never met before -- to offer their condolences, shaking his hand or giving him a hug.  He was particularly moved by the hugs from children.   He said it felt very weird to be hugged by a child -- he said he almost felt like a Dad.  He almost felt like crying.

Season is underway

Quick update.  We've been open two nights now.  Three guests the first night.  Five the second.   All men.  Three are regulars from last year and two new fellows.   All are semi-regular guests at the St Alban Community meal, so St Alban is feeling a lot like home.

Food is going extremely well, thanks to Grace and all the volunteers: Shepherd's pie, turkey pot pie, roasted potatoes, delicious soup made from fresh tomatoes; pineapple upside down cake; pancakes, eggs, toast.  And Joanne and Mackenzie, yesterday's mother-daughter breakfast team, returned in the evening to drop off a fresh-baked  apple crisp.

Thanks to our clothing committee, we've handed out jackets, gloves, new socks and underwear.

So, some warmer, fuller gentleman are out and about in Richmond today, thanks to such a great bunch of volunteers and staff.

Weather, choices and gratitude

Frost on the rooftops the last couple of mornings.    Must have been very cold for those who are forced to sleep outside.  Last Thursday, I met two who camp out, on my way to get groceries.    "Maurice" and "Will" were regulars at the shelter last season and it's always a pleasure to see them.  Each were loaded down with bags of groceries they'd picked up at the food bank that morning.  They'd been carrying these bags around with them all day, and had spent the last while at McDonald's -- free coffees all last week --  and were now on their way to Gilmore United for the 5:30 community meal.

Like me, they are keen observers of the weather this time of year and know the criteria we use for opening the shelter.  Maurice quoted me the lows for the past two nights, then told me the forecasters are calling for a cold winter.  Like me, they were looking forward to the shelter being open again.    I told them we're ready to go and hoped we'll be able to open our doors real soon.

Maurice and Will were on foot and were a couple kilometres from Gilmore United and at least 5 km further to their camps, where they'd arrive tired and in complete darkness, but with full bellies and a good supply of food.

I thought a lot about Maurice and Will as I shopped, selecting produce from the abundance on display, then afterwards as I walked home to a warm house and loving family. I thought about how similar our needs are as humans: food, shelter, companionship, love; yet how different the choices available to us.

But what struck me most was that,  despite their poverty and limited choices, they have such a positive attitude and such gratefulness for what they do have.

None of us has any choice when it comes to the weather -- we all wake up to the same warm sunshine or cold pelting rain.  And none of us has any choice about who our parents are or what comes our way during our lives.  But we all have the same choices in how we react to these circumstances beyond our control.   We can choose to moan and complain or we can learn from people like Maurice and Will, that it's possible to choose acceptance and gratitude for what we do have today, and hope for a better tomorrow.

Gearing up for the 2011/2012 season

Fall weather is upon us, a sure sign that colder, wetter winter weather is around the corner.    We will be operating the shelter again at St Alban, starting November 1st.

In preparation, we're hosting two information/orientation sessions for new and returning volunteers at St Alban, on the following dates:

Sun, 23 Oct 2 pm - 4 pm

Wed, 26 Oct 7 pm - 9 pm

All welcome. 

We'll provide information on homelessness in Richmond, how the shelter operates, go over the various volunteer opportunities and have plenty of time for Questions and Answers.

Both sessions are identical.  

Please RSVP indicating which session you'll attend by email to InnFromTheColdRichmond@gmail.com or by phone 604-315-5705.

Shelter closed tonight. Now what?

Shelter's main hall, uncharacteristically empty and filled with sunlight, just after we closed this morning.  At night, 16 sleeping mats are placed around the perimeter of the room.

The shelter is closed tonight, after 6 successive nights of offering shelter, food and warmth.    We ended with a bang, or rather a sparkler on top of a birthday cake for "Dave" who  turned 60 yesterday.  We'd made his favourite dish (Hungarian chicken parprikash) a couple nights earlier, not knowing if we'd be open on his birthday, but there was enough left over for him to enjoy again last night.

The weather has been so variable of late (and the forecasts have been changing regularly) that it's hard to predict when next we'll open.   Last time we closed (also on a Monday), we reopened the next night.   The Extreme Weather Shelter season ends March 31st, so that's the last possible day we'd be open until November.

We had a core group of 5 guests who stayed with us almost every night this time and six others who stayed for a night or 2 when the weather got really ugly.  We had a max. of 8 guests during this period.

It's always tough closing.  You naturally wonder  how our guests will fare.  The people who drop in for a night or 2 only when the weather's really extreme are clearly able to cope in all but the nastiest of weather.    The 5 regulars who are there night after night are also survivors and each has a spot (tent, camper, abandoned building) out of the weather, with sleeping bags (or "comfort coats" we handed out).    And social services has leads on housing for two of them: "Will" is visiting a potential apartment placement in Surrey Wednesday and Dave, at 60, is now eligible for seniors housing.  He  visited 5 places in Richmond last week with his worker, although there's one big barrier that needs to be removed, by him, before he'll be accepted.  

A huge draw for our regulars is the food and the social side of the shelter -- the warmth and camaraderie of fellow human beings -- and most of them would likely join us right through the summer if we were open.  So, the concern for their welfare is not so much their ability to cope with the weather, but how they'll fare with being less well fed, less accepted and more isolated.  Some of our guests are just down on their luck or between jobs and we hope they'll get a break and get their lives back together.  Some are suffering from mental illness and this is perhaps the toughest situation, but hopefully they have access to professional care and take advantage of organizations like Pathways Clubhouse in Richmond who provide a welcoming atmosphere, affordable food and programs for those with mental illnesses.  And the other main group consists of those stuck in their addictions and  perhaps the change in experiences they feel between the shelter being open and closed may help them realize they've got to make a change in themselves to be able to live the lives they deserve.    If closing a shelter has a silver lining, perhaps this is it.