Dear Anonymous,
#maggiesmission is the effort of a woman whose daughter died of overdose. She had spent time on these streets. #maggiesmission has supplied in the neighborhood of 100 backpacks for the streets. The streets of 'my pack was stolen last night. AGAIN'. The streets of 'I got nothing'. The streets of people wandering with all they own in a ripped plastic shopping bag. The handles cutting into their fingers.
She had asked me 'Do you think anyone would find any use in this?' holding up a leather over the shoulder bag.
This was his response and his gratitude.
Thank you Dear Anonymous.
It is wet and chilly out here and Mike is shivering. Everyone struggling their struggles...
Dear Anonymous,
It is wet and chilly out here and Mike is shivering. Everyone struggling their struggles. And exceptionally polite. And kind. In this moment. Always a 'Love ya'' when they leave. Always a consideration of 'How are YOU today?' These two markers of humanity always move me. It is not a given. And when anyone of us is lost in what ever suffering we are suffering, hearts appear to shut down like collapsing origami balloons. All that space that can hold 'other' collapsed.
A piece of coffeecake here. A coffee card there. Finally able to get this one woman some new underwear. She smiles a smile that lights up the street. Mens boxer briefs hold real street cred out here. Handed out as a sacrament of holiness.
No pun intended. They are received with the embodied gratitude of open palms, of two hands opening a tattered bag and accepting them as they drop to the bottom.
Backpacks via #maggiesmission where swept up. Thank you.
Dry socks on a wet day. Divinity.
One man hands me a gift. A copy of THE PLAGUE by Albert Camus. I promise to bring books the next time to swap.
She was walking around with a little plastic shopping bag filled with stuff. Nothing else.
Dear Anonymous,
She was walking around with a little plastic shopping bag filled with stuff. Nothing else.
Everything stolen from the last batch. The coat. The clothes. And this is how it goes.
Everything was stolen.
'My backpack was stolen.'
'My bag was stolen.'
'They stole my phone.'
Over and over. And over.
Now she's a bit happier. Smiling. Laughing. Grateful for the clothing and a backpack. ( thank you #maggiesmission )
But one of you Dear Anonymous's responded to her last request for make-up. And when I handed it to her she lit up. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
There is a woman who gathers backpacks for us. She does this honoring her daughter who spent time on the street.
Dear Anonymous,
There is a woman who gathers backpacks for us. Literally drops off 20 or so at a time. She does this honoring her daughter who spent time on the street. Who died of overdose this year. Thank you #maggiesmission. Those backpacks fly out of my car. Thank you.
Mike snagged this one this morning and showed us why....his first tattoo from age 13. A devil. And the backpack was a match.
He had been out all night. No bathrooms available. Sometimes things don't go so well. He needed a change of clothes when I arrived. Can you imagine?
Meanwhile socks. Socks. Socks.
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?
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.
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.
'I have a relation who don't have enough clothes.'
Dear Anonymous,
'I have a relation who don't have enough clothes.'
It's a young girl and he leaves with a couple of backpacks
( thank you #maggiesmission) and fleece vests and shirts and blankets (thank you Dear Anonymous).
He asks 'Why do these young girls out here wanna be with these guys?They don't treat 'em right...', glancing in the direction he saw a man fighting with a young woman,afraid he was about to hit her.
Thank you Dear Anonymous. The packs, the clothing and the coffee cards find homes.
Coffee cards, coffee cake, socks, more coffee cards, more socks ,backpacks, pants and hats and gloves and a sleeping bag and blankets took flight today.
Dear Anonymous,
Coffee cards, coffee cake, socks, more coffee cards, more socks ,backpacks, pants and hats and gloves and a sleeping bag and blankets took flight today. And near the end of the morning gathering he stops by with a big smile.
Shows me the backpack he has had since he received it here from Dear Anonymous in November #maggiesmission. Wanted to make sure I took note he was still using it.
Photo with permission. Even took his hat off for a moment.
Then a woman trudges by. Small in frame. Looks cold.Hood up. No eye contact.
In a moment the guys sort of indicate it's ok and she comes over and we chat.
She's tender. And cold. And we get her set up with a coat and a vest. 'Can't put it on now, got no bra on.' and raises her eyes to the group of guys a few yards away from us.
'All my stuff is in my boyfriend's car.'
She is walking vulnerability.
Fill her bag with handwarmers and foot warmers and socks and toiletries.
Something about her boyfriend locking her out of his car where all her gear is.
Something from me about careful hangin' with folks that lock you out. Once said I wished I could rush out, collect those words and toss them to the ocean before they arrive at her ears.
'But I love him.' And she cries. Her nose is red. Her coat insufficient. Her boots wet.
She is grateful for the resources and a hot cup of coffee.
Thank you Dear Anonymous.
I left this morning with 3 large bins of clothing, back packs and shoes.
Dear Anonymous ,
I left this morning with 3 large bins of clothing, back packs and shoes. Socks. Hats. Gloves.Coffee cards. All from you Dear Anonymous. By the end I come home empty handed and full hearted.
He never expected anything. He came by with a few friends to say hello. And was appreciative of the backpack and clothing and socks. A good morning.
'So many people don't look at us. It's like we're not here. Maybe they're scared. Maybe they're afraid we're gonna' ask for something. Everybody's on their phone. We're all livin' in isolation.'
It is mostly men I encounter here in the morning and there is a tacit unspoken code...
Dear Anonymous,
It is mostly men I encounter here in the morning and there is a tacit unspoken code of what colors and styles are acceptable to them. This does not include pink. No one would use this sturdy wheelie bag that would have been scooped up if it were, let's say, black or blue.
'I ain't got NO trouble with that!', Mike says as he steps forward. 'I'll find just the right person who's gonna think this is PERFECT!'. A huge smile. And I think ' Now, that's big.'
Mike is in good shape this morning, rounding up folks who need items and keeping 'order' .
When I leave he shouts 'Now, she's leavin'. You all say goodbye.!' Part drill sergeant. Part old school polite country boy. and then, 'Love ya, ma.'
Thank you Dear Anonyomous, for these bags of ALL colors. The guys know who you are and for who you go through lengths to get these to them. They know. #maggiesmission