Dream weaver

I don’t know what it is about Fridays. I came home from work late yesterday, choked up, and without my cherished hand-woven socks. Scott knows the full story, but essentially I had my heart broken after spending time with a young woman at the library. Aboriginal, alone, from Manitoba, possibly pregnant, and a painful experience that nailed me.

It’s not everyday that I engage with someone at a deeply personal level. And honestly, there are many young women down here with very similar stories that I probably pass by without much thought. But this one awoke from her slumber in the hallway and called me out. She needed to talk in private.

I won’t go in to detail, but I will say that there was a glimmer of light in her heart. I feel privileged to know what it is, and that there is a stranger in the DTES bringing hope directly to people on the street in a quiet, personal way.

Again, the Carnegie Centre proved to be exactly the safe haven that this woman needed. The interaction also made me really appreciate front-line workers who are welcoming, empowering and comforting women at WISH, Sheway, and the Downtown Eastside Women’s Centre. Thank God for these organizations, and the angels who work there.

It’s also bizarre to think of how certain situations, that at the time seemed like an ordeal, lead you to the right place, at the right time. I was in that particular hallway where the encounter began because I was following-up with Security about banning a guy earlier in the day from the library. This character had been stealing magazines, causing fights at the computer, verbally abusing staff, and viewing explicit material on said computer. I can now say that that whole ordeal was totally worth it.

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