Dear Anonymous,
And another this morning of Tyler.
His eyes have always spoken a story that may not be word ripe. That transcends the streets.
Here he is again. Can't quite get enough of that smile. He is grateful. Appreciative. he is thanking YOU.
Dear Anonymous,
Here he is again. Can't quite get enough of that smile.
He is grateful. Appreciative. he is thanking YOU.
The streets were busy this morning and there must have been twelve guys waiting when I pulled up.
Dear Anonymous,
Just one more. The streets were busy this morning and there must have been twelve guys waiting when I pulled up. But I include this one for a reason.
He has just received this brand new camouflage hoodie. And it fits. And he likes it and he is looking all bad ass and wonderful and then he throws me this crab shot and we all laugh. We laugh. And laugh. And laugh.
A new hoodie. Dignity. Respect. It allows him to be a bit more human and connected not discounted quite as quickly. Not walked around as if he has a plague or worse, doesn't exist.
It allows at least this moment moving away from desperation instead of staring at it like a freight train headed your way.
Thank you Dear Anonymous.
When I show up this morning Mike runs over to tell me about the woman inside the coffee shop.
Dear Anonymous,
When I show up this morning Mike runs over to tell me about the woman inside the coffee shop. He is a little agitated. Upset about it.
Mike says:
'She was out here cryin', like really cryin' before they opened. She was so cold. So I was about to hand her my blanket and she said 'I can give you a blow job if I can have that blanket.'
I was like 'TAKE the blanket. We're all set.' So, please, can we please set her up with some stuff? I mean imagine the life she's leading that she thought she had to do that to get a blanket?'
We pack a backpack (thank you #maggiesmission) with new socks, a coat, personal hygiene products, hand warmers. A coffee card. Mike hands it to her. No strings attached.
She sits quietly by herself inside. All the guys giving her space. She has the new coat on her lap and wrapped around her legs. She is sipping a hot drink. A hand on the shoulder and 'You all set?' and she looks up fragile and translucent. Broken and crystal clear all at once. and she manages a sweet smile and an airy 'Thank you.'
Thank you Dear Anonymous. You think a coffee card can't save a life?
Is this not the blessing I had always wanted?
Dear Anonymous,
He has been waiting this morning. Grateful for a coffee card. Excited for some clothing that fit. And he watches as folks come and go.
And then, quietly, almost a whisper says to me
'Ya' know , if you wanna' take a picture of me you can.'
Only he asks it like a question. Like maybe he doesn't know that this is my deepest honor and that when I see him framed up in the viewfinder I kinda' choke up. And then he smiles. Like this.
Is this not the blessing I had always wanted?
Mike is set up with a wheelie bag (thank you #maggiesmission) filled with toys and kids' backpacks to hand out at the shelter.
Dear Anonymous,
Mike is set up with a wheelie bag (thank you #maggiesmission) filled with toys and kids' backpacks to hand out at the shelter. He tells me he is going to try and get some photos of the kids receiving the toys, with permission. He has already asked and is aware that some families do not wish to be photographed.
He was soooo excited.
We've been trying to get dolls of color and dolls of women in careers. This one is a National Geographic explorer.
Hard to tell on this exchange who is happier. The kids? Mike? Me? Us? Dear anonymous's? A win-win-win-win-win.
There is a sub story here about the friction, at times, between the local homeless and the immigrant population. About race.
Enough to say that it's a big healing and profoundly unexpected gift for Mike, now Uncle Mikey, to hand a young black girl from Somalia a dark skinned Barbie doll. And everyone...EVERYONE...is smiling. This is a dream of Mike's. Thank you for helping make it happen.
Our buddy, Tyler. Looking fine. Upright. Polite.
Our buddy, Tyler. Looking fine. Upright. Polite. Still in his own apartment. Paying rent. A relief. Congratulations, Tyler.
And thank you Dear Anonymous for help with coffee cards and socks.
The Inimitable Mill Whisperer, Amy Stacey Curtis. Artist extraordinaire.
The Inimitable Mill Whisperer, Amy Stacey Curtis.
Artist extraordinaire.
And this terrific employee?
And this terrific employee? Shows up this morning at 0 degrees after stepping on a nail at the job site yesterday.
Went right through the bottom of her construction boot into her foot. She followed protocol to a T, got medical assistance and here she is this morning having never missed a beat.
Her comment: 'We need steel SOLED boots, not just steel TOED boots!'
A+ attitude.
On this given day
On this given day
The Band
The Band
Planning on a delivery of toys to the family shelter on Saturday.
Dear Anonymous,
Planning on a delivery of toys to the family shelter on Saturday.
He shares,'The kids call me 'Uncle Mikey'. I asked the kids if I should deliver to a few of them or wait 'til the weekend when all the kids are there. They told me 'When ALL the kids are here!' That's what these little kids told me. When they are all there. So, I'm gonna listen to them.I told the parents who are all 'Gimme gimme gimme ‘ that it's 'Please may I....' and it's 'Thank you.' around here.'
A little bit of a prayer and blessing right there.
I little bit of the saint and sinner rubbing elbows within each of us.
He goes to great extent to be presentable.
Dear Anonymous,
He goes to great extent to be presentable. No small task when you are experiencing homelessness.
And he is kind. No small task when you are experiencing homelessness.
And he expresses gratitude. No small task...well. You get what I mean.
Coffee cards help. So do socks.
I sense he struggles.
And I apologize for having no more coffee cake.
Somewhere in Massachusetts a kind, 80+ year old woman knits hats for us.
Dear Anonymous,
Somewhere in Massachusetts a kind, 80+ year old woman knits hats for us. Hope she gets to see this man's response to it.
It is a bit bitter out here this morning. He wants very little and turns down most of what we have.
'Do you have a hat?' he asked.
And that spark I felt when I could say 'Yes. Yes, we do.'
Knit just for you.
Thank you Dear Anonymous.
Someone says 'Good Morning' and asks to speak privately.
Dear Anonymous,
Someone says 'Good Morning' and asks to speak privately.
I grow concerned.
He takes me aside and whispers 'Do you have any boxer briefs?' And yes, I say, yes yes yes and I have never been so happy as to hand a man a new pair of boxers in the middle of Commercial Street.
I remember being so penniless as a young woman that hygiene products became difficult and then impossible to purchase. There is no one I knew at that time that I could have whispered in their ear and had them just hand me those items. So, it is with a certain joy that I hand him boxers and he may wonder why that made me so damn happy but the correlation is close enough to my heart.
Someone else stops by looking for a hot cup of coffee.
Their gear...all their life's stuff in a very used looking black garbage bag tied with a knot on the sidewalk. Need a backpack? Yes, his eyes light up. Thank you #maggiesmission.
Meanwhile Mike discusses the recent donation of big block legos and toy tables that he wants to get up to the Family Shelter.
Thank you Dear Anonymous.
On the steps to the church, he appeared to sew himself into his costume.
On the steps to the church, he appeared to sew himself into his costume. - with the Fortune Teller
I don't ever know the whole story.
Dear Anonymous,
I don't ever know the whole story. He works at a hotel he says. Was evicted recently from an apartment now being renovated. Has a city housing voucher. Cannot find a rental in Portland with that voucher. Used the hotel bathroom where he works. Suspended from work as a result.
A coffee card. A pair of socks, he said helps.
'Thank you god bless you thank you god bless you.' and he beams a smile.
And returns to the conundrum.
He tried to tell me the story of this character...
He tried to tell me the story of this character. My own lack of language skills had me lost after the first sentence. So grateful for his attempt and his respect for his own craft
Survivor. Sinner with the heart of a saint.
Dear Anonymous,
Survivor. Sinner with the heart of a saint. Saint and stumbler. New medication for seizures. Girlfriend who has accomplished the near impossible and highly unlikely: getting off the streets into an apartment and made it one year.
A life held together with string and tape, rusted exhaust and alignment issues. And in that ball of twisted twine and old band aids flapping off, in that jenga puzzle of nicotine stained fingers and scars across his scalp is a heart that beats to a tune of survival and redemption. Of desperate need and self sufficiency. Human. Hurt. Life not letting go. Room despite it all for love.
Sunday morning sermon with an almost empty bottle.
Dear Anonymous,
Sunday morning sermon with an almost empty bottle. Tears and laughter and a manic slide between the two. Grateful thanks and deep hurts. A hurt clanging like a broken muffler down cobblestone embedded in the monologue. A preaching of love and pain and anger and woundedness. But what's that? My projection.
He raises his bottle. I raise my coffee cup and we cheer beauty and despair, that odd couple we hang with.