An isolated chair in great condition sat in the alley near the homeless shelter. I wonder if any homeless people rest a spell there.

Christine, the shelter’s administrator, approved of  my sister’s idea to raise awareness of poverty in Windsor. My sister is a successful writer. It’ll be an every Monday blog feature titled: Their Shoes. As in “Take a walk in the shoes of someone struggling with poverty”. Only a photo of footwear will appear to protect privacy. The person will be asked about their struggles due to poverty. And, is there anything you’d like people to know about living in poverty? You’ll be surprised. Much of the footwear is quite decent; it’s been donated.

Out of nine people interviewed, one spoke French, so that interview was a wash-out. Another’s mental health issues were too deep. But, seven people were very receptive. Two broke down in tears.  


Of those two people, one woman had suicidal thoughts. I suggested some places she could attend for help. She declined. She followed me into the administrator’s office. Christine reminded her how she brought food to another poor person struggling with addictions. And we heard how she feeds many prostitutes who have no food. Christine gave her food so she could provide supper to herself and a friend.


Christine whispered to me, “Everyone needs a purpose.”


Christine helped me too. She saw me washing dishes and told me, “Someone else can wash them. Go and interview people.” I didn’t know how I would fare today, less than a week since Dad’s passing. Christine had told me she wished there was something she could do for me. Letting me interview the folks there and offering support was the best “chicken soup for my soul”, you could say.


The words from a hymn at Dad’s funeral come to mind:


“Oh Master, grant that I may never seek

 So much to be consoled as to console.”


I told the recovered addict and former prostitute that it was a courageous act to give up her baby for adoption. When I left, I hugged her and said, ”I’ll see you next Monday. I want to hear how your week went.”

Everyone wants to be loved too.

5 thoughts on “Consolation

      1. My dad died several years ago now, six months after my beloved Nana. I had not spoken to him in several years due to his choices (and his life style). I still miss him. I am sure your loss is multiplied many times over. Rest in those sweet memories, they are beautiful.

        Liked by 1 person

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