One of you Dear Anonymous's dropped off big heavy down coats yesterday and they were a hit to say the least.

 
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Dear Anonymous,

One of you Dear Anonymous's dropped off big heavy down coats yesterday and they were a hit to say the least. And new. And there was a dignity to that. Yes, they'd accept anything to stay warm...tattered, torn, stained and broken. But a new coat? Just for them? And warm? They stood up a bit taller. Some of them traded in lighter weight coats I had yesterday for the heavier ones. When they were gone the lighter weight ones moved coupled with fleece lined hoodies.
Hot coffee. Hand warmers. Socks.
Many thank you's that I need to convey to all of you.
And then his eyes. That remind me, that amplify, that this is someone's son. Someones child. I hope that at some point someone held him with ferocious love. Swaddled him warm and just right to comfort him. Beamed at him when he smiled at them.
'Would you like a piece of coffee cake?' I ask.
He says 'You have no idea....'
And reaches into the basket, always meager in relation to the need, and puts his hand around one.

 

He was shy but wanted to say thank you. So he donned a hat and gave me permission to photograph his sweet face.

 
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Dear Anonymous,
This morning at zero degrees these handmade felt hats, made by two students from Portland High School with a grant from Painting For A Purpose, were a big hit.
He was shy but wanted to say thank you. So he donned a hat and gave me permission to photograph his sweet face. He was so cold when he showed up. Head down fists tight, looking like I do when the cold gets the better part of me and I am isolated in that pain.
Hot coffee. A piece of coffee cake. A sweatshirt. And he's back out 'How can we thank them?' - with Tina Clark Edwards

 

He not only traded in a wool watch cap for this fleece hat, he asked to distribute some in the community.

 
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Dear Anonymous,
This morning at zero degrees these handmade felt hats, made by two students from Portland High School with a grant from Painting For A Purpose, were a big hit.
He not only traded in a wool watch cap for this fleece hat, he asked to distribute some in the community. The students made hats in different sizes from infant to adult, in all different colors.
'It gives me something good to do. I know where people hang out. Who need hats. Gives me a way to give back a little, make up for my past a little bit. How can we thank these kids for doing this? Tell them they have warmed my heart. Restored some faith. Helped put together what was a little broken in me.'
All of us. Searching for a bit of redemption. - with Tina Clark Edwards

 

Lots of smiles out here this morning despite the awful cold.

 
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Dear Anonymous,
This morning at zero degrees these handmade felt hats, made by two students from Portland High School with a grant from Painting For A Purpose, were a big hit.
The guys I encountered loved them because they were so warm and comfortable but also because they were moved that young students had taken an interest and were motivated to actually make these for them. Lots of smiles out here this morning despite the awful cold.
Hot coffee deeply appreciated as well.
Someone else donated this beautiful scarf and this gentleman was rockin' the look.
He wants a print of this so he can personally thank the students.
Thank you Dear Anonymous, Painting For A Purpose, Portland High School staff and students and the dear men this morning who want to say thank you. - with Tina Clark Edwards

 

Somedays, more than others, I feel this perpetually empty beak sensation.

 
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Dear Anonymous,
Somedays, more than others, I feel this perpetually empty beak sensation. A gaping maw of the street. Arriving at the edge of the nest this morning and the beaks are wide open heads popping up throats extended. Desperately hungry. More. More . More. So hungry for this and for that. Never enough. Never able to be satisfied. Truly. How many coats do you hand to someone wondering where the others are. Stored. Sold. Broken.Zipper broken. Traded. Torn. Wrapped around the kid they pass sleeping on the bricks. In a trash can after a rainstorm. No way to dry it out.
Mike decided against traveling up county to a funeral. Tells me he had a private little memorial and good bye on his own. Avoiding a thousand triggers. We hand him another bag of toys for the family shelter. Puzzles, and hot wheels and building bricks. An antidote to the dreary day. A few children will have a slightly better day as a result. He may too.
Coffee cards and socks, thank you, are still what is most requested. And a new young man on the street, not dressed for life out here, collects a neck warmer and socks and sighs relief with the coffee card.
'Somewhere to go inside for a few minutes...thank you.'
Thank you Dear Anonymous.

 

His cousin, who he felt close to, has died as a result of suicide...

 
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Dear Anonymous,
His cousin, who he felt close to, has died as a result of suicide and he is wrestling with that loss as well as the stress of connecting with family as a result. Difficult for him to figure out the right thing to do.
He promises me he'll be 'A good boy.' But between this moment and a funeral in Washington County a lot can happen.
A thousand triggers. A thousand reasons how things can go poorly. A thousand ways he could feel relieved and satisfied as well.
A young man comes over and asks where a certain car dealership is located. He shows me the ad from the paper and says 'They have $10,000 for me and a gift.'
It is of course a promotion. I tell him where the dealership is. I tell him I suspect that that ad is not what it seems.
He trys to figure out how to get there. Walk or bus?
Meanwhile a coffee card and some socks help. A muffin.
Every coat I had is gone. All the pants as well.
The never ending, ceaseless open beak and broken heart of the street. 

 

Damn cold out here. He began by grumbling about the weather and the winter and riding a bike.

 
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Dear Anonymous,
Damn cold out here. He began by grumbling about the weather and the winter and riding a bike. Riding a bike at zero degrees. Without proper gear. My feet pound with pain just imagining that.
But he offers this amazing smile and suddenly in that fraction of a second what could be so bad? Like a fractional moment of grace, of perfection, of beauty. And I am left speechless with that gift.
Our friend Mike, not pictured here, lost a family member yesterday by suicide. Leaving behind a wife and children. He has lost yet another. Family relations can be really complicated out here, if not everywhere, and he wrestles with the right thing to do. Foreseeing possible triggers for relapse.
Robin Lynn Herrick has arrived with bags of toys for him to deliver to the family shelter. He has expressed that's the thing that helps him stabilize. Helps him from derailing. And so, let there be toys.