3 minute read
Thanks for Helping Me
Photo: pixelfit/gettyimages.ca
For people living on the street, the COVID-19 pandemic has made their lives worse. That’s where The Salvation Army comes in.
by Linda Dixon
She enters our offices making not a sound, but the steady flow of tears coursing down her face utters more than words could say. The telltale signs of life on the street are evident. Five-foot-five, perhaps, with green eyes, sandy brown hair. Pretty … except, it’s difficult to look past the dark blue bruising on her face.
Daniella, the administrative assistant at The Salvation Army’s North Toronto Community Church, sums up the situation in a glance and bustles her into the community and family services office.
Chrissy The woman is incredibly fragile. Life on the street at the best of times is stressful. Vigilance is essential. The potential for violence is always present and this woman knows something about that violence. For people living on the street, in this COVID-19 pandemic, even the few small stress relievers upon which they rely are robbed—a spot indoors to sit, just for a bit; a compassionate stranger offering change; a hot coffee; a place to wash their hands.
“Hi.” I invite her to sit. “My name is Linda. What can I help you with today?” I smile at her before I ask my standard line of opening questions, not wanting for a moment to presume that I know what this suffering person needs. To ask the question is, to my thinking, a sign of respect— even when, to me, “What could I not help you with?” seems the far more appropriate question.
“I’m hungry and need ... ” words trail off. A pause.
“Yes. I can help you,” I say. Now the tears tumble out with a jumble of words impossible to decipher amid gulps of air. “First, let me get you something to eat.”
Wordlessly, Chrissy—for that
There is so much more we want to do to help. There is so much more we can do to help. LINDA DIXON
is her name—scarfs down four moves toward the door. breakfast cereal bars and seven— “Please, come back and see me seven—fruit and pudding cups! I again,” I invite Chrissy. simply wait as Chrissy eats. “Thanks for helping me,” she calls
Finished, she sits back into the out over her shoulder. Then, Chrissy chair and stretches. It is one of those intentionally stops to utter a heartlong, lazy motions my pet cat used felt “thank you” to Daniella. to make after a delicious nap. It And she is gone. Neither Daniella speaks of contentment. nor I want to see Chrissy go. There Open Invitation help. There is so much more we can Everything about Chrissy surprises do to help. me. She crams her bag with easy-toBut we know that by the grace of eat foods: granola bars, fruit cups, a God, having received the help she grocery gift card, the contact number wanted, Chrissy may one day take us for housing and an offer of the use of up on our invitation and return. a phone. I assure Chrissy that when she calls the number, she will get a room that very night—a place to sleep where she is safe. I stress the word “safe.”
She takes the number. Stuffs it into a pocket, not once looking at it. Chrissy asks me for one of the bright lime green gift bags, known as Sun
is so much more we want to do to shine Bags, in my office. She stands up, gathTwo Hearts Daniella Garcia (left) is the administrative assistant and Linda Dixon is the community and family services co-ordinator at The Salvation Army’s ers her belongings and North Toronto Community Church
