He is sitting on the curb with his backpack on, a little grubby from the streets and having just woken up. He is watching his 'girl' accept a couple of dresses she has asked for. Her eyes are big and lit up. It's the way he is smiling at her. There is tenderness. There is something like deep appreciation for this moment of her receiving something she wanted. And responding to her joy.
I see the look and I wonder how we would all be transformed if there was someone that would look at us with this regard. And there was no hope of getting the camera. It was a moment that could not be interrupted by being seen any more than it was.
Name it. What is this place called?
Love. It is called love.
Even though it wears disguises and sometimes I don't recognize it at first.
What do you have to do here?
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
Thank you Dear Anonymous, thank you.
How can I walk by without loving what will be?
Dear Anonymous,
Our friend Tyler showed up briefly yesterday morning. It's a difficult and uncertain time and that is not making the streets any more stable. I worry there will be many more out here before this is all over.
He smiles. Allows me to see him and I remember Alden Andrews commenting on photos of folks on the street on not so good days. He said 'THAT WAS ME.' remarking on his own mighty struggles.
Alden passed away tragically this weekend, the result of profound injuries from a hit and run accident.
After surviving heroin addiction.
That beautiful young man who rose like a phoenix from a pile of ashes was able to build a life with people he loved, in community, with his child and family. No more street.
That beautiful man related to another young man, miserable on the street and said 'THAT'S ME.' identifying in those words the spectrum of his own path.
So, how can I walk by without loving what will be?
Thank you Dear Anonymous.
May their grief be rich and complete and land finally in a field of love.
I just want to thank this broad online community for holding space for Alden Andrews during last week. I saw people falling in love with a man they never met. And holding him close to their hearts as he struggled and fought and finally succumbed to the profound injuries resulting from a massive hit and run accident in Liberty, Maine.
Thank you for this.
There is much grief but your heartfelt concern and empathy offers the gift of hope as well.
And if you are still able to pray in any way that is meaningful to you, please continue to do so for his parents, brothers, son and partner.
And may their grief be rich and complete and land finally in a field of love. Deepest condolences.
What love looks like.
What love looks like. A moment after the proposal. She said YES. Congratulations Ben and Athena.
—with Ben Klebe
So. Two years ago I may not have had an imagination big enough to imagine this moment. Things looked a lot different then.
So. Two years ago I may not have had an imagination big enough to imagine this moment. Things looked a lot different then.
This is Ben Klebe, having just proposed to Athena...and she said yes.
Congratulations Ben and Athena. And cheers to people overcoming daunting odds.
You may recognize Ben as a staff member at MaineWorks.
Every once in a while, in a world filled with its' share of despair and seemingly irreparable brokenness, I am invited to witness the joy.
Every once in a while, in a world filled with its' share of despair and seemingly irreparable brokenness, I am invited to witness the joy.
She said YES.
Congratulations Ben and Athena!
—with Ben Klebe