Showing posts from March, 2012

A Captive Set Free.

Todd is almost housed.
His goal is becoming a reality.
Yes, a reality.

It is only days away, yet I could feel all his aggravation and frustration, because it's something that should have already happened. He's worked hard, kept his appointments and he's been doing what he's supposed to do! But, a wonderful fact that remains, his dream WILL become reality; hopefully and prayerfully this coming week.  
The frustration and aggravation of this process comes from things taking a lot longer than expected, primarily because of the significant number of years Todd has spent in prison. Background checks have been delaying the inevitable and he hates the feeling of stagnantly progressing toward the goal.  
"Stagnantly progressing" is a term I just invented: To me, it indicates a vital part of moving out of homelessness into the goal of self-sufficiency. Oftentimes, one of the most important things a homeless person can do, is wait! Oftentimes, one o…

Homeless, Hospitalized and Hopeful.

Two of my clients were in the local hospital today, so I went to visit them..... Eliud came with me to visit my 85 year old buddy, Julio. They're both homeless, and live on the same floor at the shelter. With amazing compassion, he's been Julio's helper in so many different ways, with things like helping him get his meds, translating for him, as he's unable speak English and he frequently takes him to appointments. They also play a lot of dominoes together! As we wander into his room, he's laying in his bed, oblivious to everything in the outside world. When he notices us, Julio is immediately energized. He may be 85, but he responds like an excited kid, quickly shuffling up in his bed, grinning from ear to ear and offering his tiny hand to shake, greeting us with "Hola, como estas".   He indicates that he's about to get checked out, so we go ask the nurse to make sure. Upon return, we find him rapidly changing into his street cloth…

Frost Bitten, Very Shy!

In late November 2007, I wander to the Currency Exchange to take care of some business. As I stand on the corner, people flood up to me mourning over their woes; lack of a home, the coldness of Chicago and the deepening depression of fragile lives, tormented by waves of addiction and homeless reality.

Old man Henry grieves over and seeks advice about a friend's homeless state, commenting over his own need to stay off the North Side due to elder abuse. As I listen, Donald stumbles into my path trying to start a conversation with me, telling Henry his time was up! I continued to give Henry my ears! Anxiously agitated, Donald huffs and fumes over not gaining my attention yet. Donald can barely stand and stoops hovering with his drunken cracked out stare. The sight of him is an addictive nightmare, my heart sinks and I mourn this sorry depressive sight.

People, who I have known for years, frequently interrupt my discussion with Donald. This obviously frustrates him immensely. He weeps…