By Jen Friesen
The gift away evening was wonderful. It began in our retail store—for every purchase made over a few weeks, we would donate a jacket, warm blanket and socks to a local shelter.
In addition to the many boxes given to the shelter, we decided to personally give clothing, blankets and a hot meal to people living on the streets of Vancouver. Twelve of us headed out on evening in search of those who needed our help the most. Jake thought of the man who slept in his parking spot each night. I wanted to find the two homeless men who watched cars everyday in Gastown.
In Jake’s parking spot we found Ray: he was quiet, humble and very grateful. Jake had seen Ray for months and finally got the opportunity to introduce himself and explain our Obakki initiative. These two men from very different worlds, who met almost every morning and evening in the same spot, now see each other as more than passing strangers. One, a man who works hard to provide for his family, and another, a man who works hard to make it to the next day.
Next we went back into the darkness and found a young woman sleeping on the steps of the big Hasting Church. She was wrapped in a thin, ratty blanket and when I woke her up, she was very disillusioned, visibly cold, foaming at the mouth and had trouble talking, but we could hear her words very clearly: “Thank you.”
Jake suddenly remembers a spot by one of the bridges. We all get out, open the back of the truck and start handing out supplies. Jake walks directly to a man curled up in a filthy box and using the concrete wall of the bridge for warmth. Jake covers the man in a blanket and gives him new socks, jacket and food. In return, Jake receives the most meaningful and heartfelt hand-shake of his life.
The hardest situations for me were the ones involving older people, knowing that this is inevitably how their lives will end. We saw one emaciated man emerge from an alley; he had a beard and resembled a starving Santa. The last man we saw was maybe the saddest: we found him in front of the bus station, sitting on the ground with a beautiful dog, both of them freezing. He had his wheelchair behind him and a very raggedy hat in front of him, collecting spare change. At this point, we were out of blankets and food, but we gave him a warm jacket and numerous socks, which he was happy to accept. I hope we see him the next time we do this. What makes him happy, sad and afraid?
I know I speak for everyone when I say that we went home that evening feeling so sad, but also fulfilled. And very grateful for the lives we have. I reflect on this night on those days when I’m feeling sorry for myself and I need a little perspective. I remember Jake covering a man sleeping in a box beside a bridge with a blanket. I remember the man in front of Blockbuster shivering and telling us not to give him anything else or he’d start crying. I lock these moments in my heart and remember them when my attitude, head or heart need a reality check.
