Dear Anonymous,
I had seen her in the back of the coffee shop and the guys told me she was there and may need a few things.
She was out all night. Luckily had a great coat from the resource center. But not much else. Says her backpack was stolen.
Thank you Dear Anonymous, we were able to set her up with a backpack filled with a blanket, socks, coffee card, personal hygiene products, neck warmer, jacket and scarf.
She requested tweezers and make up. Neither of which I have. But I'll keep my eyes open : )
She was grateful. Not that that's a prerequisite here, it's just that I want to share her appreciation.
Another young man is struggling with his feet. The guys surrounding him have a lot of empathy. Bad feet on the street is a recipe for agony. He's got huge blisters all around his heel and foot. The guys get it when we hand him extra socks. But the look in the young mans' eyes will stay with me. Haunt me. Nudge at me. It was a look of desperation. Nothing to veil his lostness. His woundedness. The look of an exhausted bird looking for a place to land and just can't find one. It was the look of hopelessness trying to convince itself all was not lost.