The meeting place
By Sr. Rosemary Williams, O.L.M.
May/June 2014
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The Meeting Place where I volunteer once a week offers shelter and support to some of Toronto’s most vulnerable. Who are they? They are so much more than individuals struggling with homelessness, addic-tions, and mental health issues. Each has a story, and beneath the veneer of street smarts is a heart yearning for love and acceptance.
Coming to know them is both humbling and enriching. Humbling because I realize just how privileged I have been in my life. So many have had a childhood that was traumatic and lacking the love, affirmation, and opportunities that I enjoyed. Many are survivors of residential schools and were unable to establish stable, loving relationships with their own children after the isolation and abuse they had experienced. Others are trying to cope with mental illness and are living solitary lives in rooming houses. All are seeking shelter in its broadest sense.
There is an Irish proverb that says, “It is in the shelter of each other that the people live.” For some this is literally true as they huddle together physically with their sleeping bags at night on the street. But there is a deeper shelter needed by all of us—the comfort and warmth of human friendship; the conviction that others care about us.
The two images below appeared in the March-April 2014 issue of Scarboro Missions magazine with the article, “I shall not hate” by Fr. Ron MacDonell, SFM. These images were kindly provided to us by photographer Irene Borins Ash, but in error Irene was not credited. We apologize for this omission and thank Irene for her photographic work.
Palestinian doctor Izzeldin Abuelaish, who five years ago lost three daughters and a niece to shelling from Israeli tanks in Gaza, delivers a message of hope and healing as part of the annual Scarboro Missions/St. Jerome’s University (Waterloo, Ontario) co-sponsored Lectures in Catholic Experience. Scarboro Missions. January 19, 2014.
In the morning when the doors of The Meeting Place open, most people are greeted by name as they enter. It took me many months to learn the names of the regulars, but I felt this was an important part of my presence and an expression of companionship. A young man whom we’ll call Tom made no response to my greetings for a long time. Then one day when I was trying to play pool, he quietly came over and took my hand to show me how to hold the stick. Yes, it takes a long time to build trust but that is not surprising in view of the way they are dismissed and ignored daily by most of the people they meet out on the streets.
Let me introduce you to a man we’ll call Dan. He lives in a care facility because he is diabetic, blind, an amputee, and on dialysis three times a week. He comes on Wheel-Trans and knows many people just by the sound of their voices. Dan has a great sense of humour and is often the object of good natured teasing by the others. I visited him in the hospital when he had surgery to remove yet another section of his stump. He was sharing the room with a man who had suffered a heart attack. The other man’s wife proceeded to tell me how grateful she was to Dan as he had been able to cheer up her husband who had been quite depressed. Dan has a gift for getting beyond his own suffering to reach out to others.
A sense of community
There is a real sense of community and mutual concern for one another here which finds one of its best expressions when we go for a weekend together up north to a camp site each fall. All work is done cooperatively with some preparing meals, others doing the washing up or gathering the wood for the evening campfire. The choices of activities are numerous: hiking, canoeing, rope climbing, paper mâché mask-making, team cooking competitions with given ingredients, treasure hunts, volleyball, and baseball. Since many are First Nations people there is also an opportunity to participate in a sweat lodge. Experiencing life close to the beauty of nature evokes the more peaceful, gracious, and fun-loving side of all. Hidden talents come to the surface like Herb’s professional level guitar playing. Bonds of friendship are deepened and for some, new ones are discovered. One of the last events is banner-making by teams of those who have shared the same cabin. These are later hung on the walls of the Meeting Place on our return where they can be admired and call forth good memories.
Leslie
Before heading back to the city on Sunday, we enjoy a turkey dinner with all the trimmings. One year as we prepared to load up the bus for our return, Leslie (inset), the coordinator, called us to line up beside the bus for a group photo. Spontaneously many spread-eagled themselves, arms up against the bus with their backs to her. Highly amusing but also telling of their shared experience on the city streets.
When someone in The Meeting Place community dies there is a memorial service and meal for all their friends. A photograph with flowers is placed in a prominent place and all have an opportunity to recall memories and sign a memorial book. Leslie prints up small cards with a photograph and prayer on it. Even those who are usually well into their drinks often turn up sober; a powerful and hard won witness to their respect for their friend.
Recently I was touched by the generosity of Ann who is currently moving from one Out of the Cold shelter to another each night as she awaits a subsidized apartment. She arrived at The Meeting Place with a large coffee for me and even remembered that I like double cream and sugar. Such gestures are precious and speak of the deepening bonds of friendship and trust which are being offered to me. Yes, I am grateful for my friends at The Meeting Place.
Names in this story have been changed to protect the privacy of individuals.
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