Week 22

Yes, I know it's been three weeks since my last update, but I'm happy to report that they have been three relatively quiet and relaxing weeks compared to the craziness in early September. In fact, they have been so quiet that my biggest struggle has been with loneliness - as the weather has gotten colder and rainier, I've felt more isolated from friends and family. Even so, I have had the chance to connect with both family and friends during the past three weeks, so I think part of this is just my perception, rather than fact.

Last weekend we saw the first Columbia Bible College Urban Mission Adventure group come to the DownTown East Side. I was given the privilege of speaking to CBC as a whole on that Thursday morning in chapel, and then again along with my co-worker Andrew Stock, and my boss, Gordon, to the smaller UMA group that evening. While the talk to the chapel did not go as smoothly as I had hoped, the evening talk went over very well, and I was glad to be a part of it. UMA was my first exposure to the DTES, and I'm hoping that perhaps one or two out of the group were as profoundly impacted as I was. Over the weekend I was able to spend a little bit of time with the groups as they worked in and wandered through the DTES, and it was great to see them interacting with the community. I realized how 'normal' life has become for me here, and how my own view of the neighbourhood has changed in the past five months.

I want to tell you here about another one of my friends. You'll remember my last update where I mentioned getting a punch from a guy who lives in our building. During that scuffle, Thelma came out of her room and started yelling at mike to back off from being so aggressive. After My co-worker had taken Mike aside and started to calm him down, I went with Thelma and walked her back to her room. On the way, she started crying. To understand why this is important, you have to understand Thelma.

My first memory of meeting Thelma was of this short, overweight, older lady yelling at me to carry her walker down the flight of stairs leading out of the building. She was wearing a helmet over her hat, and wearing at least six shirts, and I think a pillow shoved inside the outer shirt. When she looked at you, it was the definitive crazy-eyes look that you think about when you think of a severely mentally challenged person. The entire presentation was almost comical, except for the fact that she was hurling swear words at me for not moving fast enough.

Over the next couple of months, I carried that walker up and down those stairs many, many times. Every time I did, Thelma's countenance towards me got a little bit softer. Eventually she started stopping at the top of the stairs to chat with me for a few minutes before continuing on to her room. Sometimes she would make perfect sense - other times, it was hard to figure out what she was talking about. Eventually she learned my name.

This brings us up to the small scuffle in the hallway outside the office. As I took Thelma away down the hall, she started to cry. She asked 'Why does that guy have to be so mean? I didn't do anything to him.' My heart broke a little for her right there. I got an image in my mind of a little girl, watching her parents fight and wanting to protect her mom, and wondering how her dad could be so cruel. I don't know if that was actually Thelma's experience or not, but I'm sure it's not far from the truth. Underneath an exterior that's as hard as nails, Thelma is a very hurt broken little girl.

She is also an alcoholic, a smoker, and a crack addict. She still threatens to throw people down the stairs if she doesn't like them. I'm pretty sure the list of who's getting into Heaven is VERY short in her mind, but I also know that she believes she's on it. I'm pretty sure I believe that too.

I mopped Thelma's floor a few days ago, or what I could reach of it. Her room is 98 square feet, and out of that 98 square feet, there is perhaps 6 square feet visible. All her walls are piled as high as will be allowed with various nicknacks and clutter. Her fridge is crammed full to the point of bursting with food both good and rotten. How she hasn't gotten food poisoning, I have no idea. One of these days we will have to take her for a little trip while other staff clean out her room. When she comes back, she'll scream and swear at us for about a week, and then start to get used to her new, cleaner living conditions.

I like Thelma. She is a child of God in the most real way - someone who has been profoundly broken, extremely calloused, and yet still has a remarkable air of innocence that pokes through every once in a while. I'm looking forward to seeing her in the future, sitting with Christ, no longer needing her walker or her helmet.

Thelma, to me, typifies the DTES. There is hope here, but it won't always look like you think it should, and sometimes you have to dig for it.