Scene 49

Blizzard Shmizzard

There was no question in my mind that I was going to my shift at a Toronto meal program last night in a record snow-storm. Not even when my husband cautioned against it. Not even when the advisories said: Stay at Home.

I am not particularly brave. I refused to go on the London Eye for fear of heights. I have a real princess streak when it comes to bathrooms. I hate camping. When December hits, the homing instinct to go to Florida is strong.

And yet, I put on multiple layers, wind pants, two pairs of socks (I did survive a winter in Winnipeg) and stompled through snow to the street car that thankfully was running.

And not just me. Everyone who was scheduled for their shift showed up, removed their layers and got down to it. Our fearless leader, Toby, had been in the kitchen since 10:00 am making hearty beef chili and mashed potatoes.

Now that I’m home and it’s the day after, I cannot help what wonder what drove us to be there. We could have cancelled the shift. But we didn’t. Why?

We Know These People

We have known many of them for several years. They are not just typeset on the local newspapers. We know their names. We know who is a vegetarian. We know who needs travel devices to get around. We know who is in rehab and who has left rehab. It would be highly cheesy to say they are our“friends” but they are part of our community and we worry about them especially when the weather is bananas. We know we need to show up.

We Know that the Social Services Landscape is a Graveyard…

On a good day. On a day like yesterday, we may have been one of the only services open. We know that the warming centres are inadequate. We know that the food that they received from us may be all they have for a few days.

Bragging Rights

I mean, sure. There are a lot of people who like posting about working with homeless people, myself included. But I think shifts like yesterday separate “bragging rights” from those that feel something else. Something that sits in your gut and tells your brain and your heart that you have to help. That there is almost nothing that is going to make you stay home.

We are all Secret Adrenoline Junkies

Perhaps we are all all drawn to the chaos of outreach work: the mitigating of rules and protocals to save lives, the adrenoline rushes, the whistling or singing that people do to calm their nerves (yesterday we sang every song that had the phrase “Bad Boy.”)Maybe we are all secret adrenoline junkies.

To those who showed up yesterday for whatever reason: to make meals, to hand a freezing human being a warm hot chocolate, to serve our most vulnerable, thank you.