November, December

This story actually begins at the start of October. One Saturday evening I was walking in Wilket Creek Park taking in the fall colours when I get a call. It's my friend "Martin". I knew him from church many moons ago. We actually went to the same high school if I remember correctly. He was a few years ahead.

He's calling to ask if I can help him move. I don't really want to, but I ask, when? He says, right now. I tell him I'm out right now and that I can't help at the moment. He says he can try to get another friend to help. I say if he still needs help I should be available the following week.

The following Saturday I'm taking more fall photos. This time at the Humber Arboretum with my friend, Justin. We're just getting started when I get the call. It's Martin. He still needs help with the move.

The next day I borrow the work truck and we move the belongings from his rented room in Scarborough to his parents' home in North York. He's unable to pay his rent so his landlady has requested he leave. Martin doesn't have a lot of things, so the truck is barely half full. Still it takes nearly 2-1/2 hours because he hasn't gotten anything ready to go by the time I get there. His OCD isn't helping either. It takes him a super long time to pack. Most of the time I'm just standing there waiting. I'm getting really irritated.

At his parents place I unload the truck and move the stuff inside where he arranges it in the basement. It takes only around half an hour. That's how long it should have take to load if he were ready. I even spend a little bit of time chatting with his parents. His mom is somewhat incapacitated with a leg infection. It limits her mobility.

After unloading I say, good-bye. End of story, right? Not quite.

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Monday, November 5th 12:30 a.m. - I get the call. It's Martin. He says he's downstair and needs a place to stay.

Under normal circumstances I would have accommodated him. Especially since it had gotten quite cold outside. But things had changed. My once free second bedroom was now occupied. I had rented it out to a lady from work, Saba. She had moved in days earlier. All the stuff I had stored in her room was now back in mine. Like the time before, he had given me absolutely no warning, no time to prepare. I tell him I can't take him in right now, but if he still needs a place the next day to come back.

When I return from work Monday evening he's there.

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The first thing I noticed about Martin was that he could barely walk. When I get him up to my room and he removes his shoes and socks I see both ankles are grotesquely swollen. Especially the right one. He tells me he injured them. But without a place to stay, he hasn't had a chance to get off his feet. They've just gotten worse and worse. It turns out that his father kicked him out two weeks prior. Right after we dropped off his stuff.

Another thing about Martin, if you don't know him, is that he's super skinny to the point of near-anorexia (I believe) and he has mental health issues. I don't think they're super serious. But that's what I believe has hindered him from gaining steady employment thus contributing to his ongoing problem with housing over the years.

Anyway, the next morning I drop him off at his doctor's before I go to work.

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In the evening he's back in front of my building. I let him up.

His doctor has given him a prescription to help with his infection. Martin had actually gone to Sunnybrook Hospital a few days earlier. All they did were run some blood tests and gave him an X-ray. Then they sent him on his merry way with a couple of Tylenol when he could barely walk. Not very helpful.

In August I had hurt my left ankle and had trouble even standing. So I had an idea of what he was going through. My plan was to let him heal for 2 or 3 weeks while trying to figure things out. Also, I figured I had better tell Saba. I told Martin he would have to stay in my room, so she would have the space in the rest of the condo she paid rent for.

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Now, even though I had done Sandwich Runs, volunteered at the Knox Youth Dinner and visited the Boarding Home on Tyndall, I had no idea of the services available to the homeless. Online I found the City had some shelters and 24-hour respite centres available. I let Martin know.

And, even though he didn't want me to tell anyone about his situation, I still did. I needed help. The best advice I got was from a lady at church, Carolyn. She told me about Ontario Works. It's a service run by the Ontario Government. They can help with the basics like Financial assistance, including: income support to help with the costs of basic needs, like food, clothing and shelter; and Employment assistance to help clients find, prepare for and keep a job. It seemed perfect.

When I told Martin about it he shut down. I don't remember what we were doing, but we were in my room when I mentioned it and he just went mute and showed no emotion, staring into oblivion. This was at least a month into his stay at my place. I was perplexed. It seemed he was having none of it.

Now I have to say, by this point, he was really wearing thin on me. I had no personal space at all. Whenever I was in my room, he was in my room. And just a few feet away. If I watched Netflix on my computer, he would watch over my shoulder. As well, since he couldn't walk, I had to buy groceries for him. He would always offer to pay me back, but I refused. He had no income. He needed it much more than me. And, at night, he would often snore. It wasn't overly loud or even constant. But I was used to silence and it was broken. I wanted him out, but he was still hobbling around. He needed more time.

A week or two later, probably sometime in mid-December I brought up visiting Ontario Works again. The building is actually very close by, just one block east of my place. Again he shut down. I asked him if he had a plan. Because sleeping on the floor at the end of my bed forever isn't a plan. He said nothing. I was angry. So I told him the coming Friday I was going to go to the Ontario Works office with or without him. If he didn't come this week I'd give him one more Friday to join me. If he didn't come then, I would have to ask him to leave. All I wanted him to do was ask for help. Even if they couldn't provide it right away, I told him he could stay until it was arranged.

The first Friday came and went. I ended up going to the office myself. One of the ladies working there gave me a card and said he could call the number to ask for help. I gave it to him.

Today was the second Friday (Friday, December 28th). It's 11:00 a.m.. I ask him to go to the Ontario Works office with me, but he doesn't say anything (which I take as a refusal). So I ask him to leave which he does. As he's leaving he thanks me for letting him stay to heal his ankles. I didn't know what to say, so I just said good-bye. Half an hour later I go into my ensuite. He had left grocery money on the counter.

It's bewildering to me why someone would choose a life on the streets over asking for social assistance (and possibly gaining some semblance of a normal life). I wish I knew what was going on inside that head of his. All I can do is hope that he eventually comes to his senses. But he's been like this for over 50 years. Sadly I think there's little hope things will change.

Evening at the Scott Mission

Our church has been organizing volunteer visits to the Scott Mission for a little while now. I've wanted to join earlier, but this was my first time.

Named after, Rev. J. MacPherson Scott, the Scott Mission was founded by Morris and Annie Zeldman in 1941 "to serve the needs of the poor and lost in the community..."

Located on the west side of Spadina Avenue, just north of College Street, they provide food, shelter and clothing to those in need.

I arrived 10-15 minutes before our scheduled meeting time of 6:00 p.m. No one else from our church was there yet. One of the gentlemen working at the Mission let me in and I found a place to sit and wait.

While there I noticed an middle-aged gentleman who was sitting by himself at the front so I introduced myself. His name was Joe and he was originally from Texas. I believe he had been in Toronto for 10 years or so. He said he came up because of our healthcare system. I don't know if he was being serious or not, but I suppose it's entirely possible.

I don't think he knew too much about our city yet because he asked me about other assistance programs. Unfortunately I didn't know much about that sort of thing. I suggested he ask the staff at the Mission about it.

After that one of the fellows working there had Bill Mak and I go to the kitchen to plate the food for dinner. I believe it was leftovers from lunch. They had things stored in a warmer there. There were trays of meat, breakfast sausages, hamburger patties, baby carrots and small potatoes. We plated 42 styrofoam plates.

At 6:30 p.m. we handed about half of them out.

After handing the dinners out I thought I'd try to go out and chat with some of the guys there. Steve and one other fellow from the Chinese service had arrived to join us by now.

The first guy I approached was sitting by himself by the window at the southeast side of the room. I thought he was native, but he was actually Chinese. He was a student who came here from China to study. I'm not exactly sure what he was studying. Maybe English and something else. I didn't pry too much. I didn't ask him how he ended up at the Mission because I didn't want to embarrass him or anything. We had a short chat before he left to go out for a smoke.

Not everyone I went up to wanted to talk. There were at least two guys who weren't interested.

The next fellow I chatted with was a middle aged gentleman of Egyptian decent. He was a really nice guy. Very friendly. He came in a bit late, but only wanted a small amount of food since he had already eaten.

He had a bit of an accent, so I couldn't always understand everything he said. I think he did a lot of different things for work throughout his life. Though, right now, I can't remember what he told me. He mentioned he married a lady from Canada, but after a few years they divorced. Life can take unexpected turns.

The last guy I spoke with was a Caucasian fellow who was just a year older than me. We both grew up in the GTA. Since we were pretty much the same age I think we could relate to a lot of things about life growing up in Toronto.

I have to admit, I'm finishing writing this almost a week later and can't remember a lot of details about the conversations I had.

Normally I like to try to find out some basic information about the guys I chat with. I suppose if we spoke long enough I might feel comfortable enough about bringing up the subject of why they were using the Mission's services. But I didn't get that far this time.

When possible I like to try to offer words of encouragement. I don't know if I did that this time. At the very least I hope a stranger showing some interest in how they're doing somehow lifted their spirits. Even if only a little. That would show some measure of success in our outing.

Richmond Hill Gang

This is part of the Richmond Hill crew that went out on the Sandwich Run with Project 417 last Saturday. A few of my friends go to that church. About once a year they'll join us to hand out bag lunches to our homeless friends in downtown Toronto.

All told, about 23 volunteers came out. We divided them into two groups and went to a couple different areas of the city. I'm happy to say our group managed to give out all our lunches by the end of the night. I believe everyone had a good experience. They got to be a little more intimate with a side of society they might not get much of a chance to interact with on a regular basis. That's a good thing. The better we get to know our neighbours the easier it is for us to identify with them. Understanding goes a long way. Not only between people from different neighbourhoods, but people, in general, worldwide.

Afterwards a few of us stopped for a bite at Johnny Rockets across from Dundas Square. Being a tourist spot it was a bit of a rip off. But, that was to be expected so we knew what we were getting into. We just took the opportunity to sit, relax, chat and reflect on our evening.

Homeless in TO

This is Paul's bed. I can't remember how long he's been out here, but he does sleep on the streets more often than not. He's originally from Sudbury, ON. When times are good he can find work as a roofer. When they're bad... well, you can see the result. Paul is one of a number of homeless men who call the grounds of City Hall home. They're allowed, by city staff, to pitch camp here at night as long as they're gone by 5:00 or 6:00 in the morning (before the good folk head into work nearby). It may not look so bad right now, but wait until February comes round and it's -15C (5F) out and the wind is howling and the snow is piling up beside your sleeping bag. See how you like it then.

I've had the pleasure of talking with many of the guys down here. They're a really nice bunch if you take the time to get to know them. Their backgrounds are as varied as the reasons that they're on the streets. Some are young, some are old. Some have physical disabilities, some have mental disabilities. Some have just run into a string of bad luck. Whatever the case groups like, Andy Coates, Project 417 are there to lend a hand.

Project 417 was started by Reverend Joe Elkerton to, among other things, ministry to the homeless where they live - out on the street. Andy has been on staff full time since January of 2004. He, along with other team leaders, lead volunteer groups through the streets of downtown Toronto on Sandwich Runs. The volunteers come from many different places. Some are high school students, others are church fellowship groups. There's even a singles group that comes out now and then.

A typical night will begin in the parking lot behind Knox Presbyterian Church at Spadina and Harbord. Andy will instruct the volunteers on what they will be doing that evening. He explains the pre-made bag lunches they hand out are a "calling card" that gives them a chance to speak with a homeless person. Many of them have the opportunity to grab a meal at a shelter if they wish. The bag lunch gives volunteers a reason to go up to a homeless friend to see how they're doing and find out if they're alright.

Normally, after Andy speaks, they will split the volunteers into two smaller groups to cover more ground. Darlene's group usually heads north to Bloor, then goes east to Yonge and back down to Dundas. Andy will lead his group south on Spadina, across Queen to Yonge and back up to Dundas. Both groups will converge at the Tim Hortons there where they can grab a coffee and donut and then Andy will debrief them.

Volunteers describe the experience as "humbling" and educating. They learned a lot about a side of society they never had much chance to interact with previously. It made them very appreciative of everything they had in life. And they found out that giving is good for the soul... not just those of the homeless, but their own too.