Setting Prisoners Free

Linda lived under a bridge just down the road in a tent surrounded by many other tents. She was an elderly lady with a compassionate heart and an infectious sense of humour. She had a presence, a Chicago-style toughness, about her. She was a generous giver who didn't take "any crap", and she always let everyone know that she was not someone to mess with. Linda slept in her tent all year round, with her arthritic hips and swollen joints, on the cold hard concrete. She slept in the sweltering heat. She huddled under multiple blankets in the polar vortexes and blizzards. She stood steadfast when the police and politicians abused their power and bullied the Uptown Tent City occupants. She proudly wore her "Jail Rahm*" pin every day as a protest against the Chicago Mayor and the governing authorities. When people threatened her, she never cowered away. Her tent was her home and she stood her ground. Always! *Rahm Emanuel was Chicago's Mayor at the time. He was vi

I proudly looked at an old photo on my wall. It's of my youngest daughter Muriwai at 6-years-old wearing a Wonder Woman costume and holding 2 mats crafted from old plastic bags. In Chicago, someone came up with a brilliant initiative; take thousands of plastic bags and turn them into mats for those experiencing homelessness. These mats create a buffer between the person and the concrete, these mats help take the agonising chill off people's arthritic hips, while also rescuing thousands of plastic bags from landfills and waterways each year. They take something toxic for the environment and turn it into something highly beneficial and sustainable for those most vulnerable.  What adds beauty and meaningfulness to this initiative is that these mats are mainly crocheted by retirees and pensioners who love doing their part to address a growing need. These women (with a few men) come together for "working bee" events, where they fellowship and the time is also used to spark

My phone rang. I looked at my caller ID. I quickly recalled the brief history I'd had with this elderly gentleman. Only a few weeks ago he was living in his car. Only a few weeks ago I had to proactively respond to a suicidal text which haunted me for 48 hours. Only a few weeks ago he was attacked while sleeping in his car. Only a few weeks ago his homelessness caused greater separation from his adult autistic son. But now he is housed, his son has a safe place to visit, and his suicidal ideations have dissipated. I pondered my schedule. I wondered what I could postpone if I had to respond and act immediately. As my mind spiralled through different scenarios, I reluctantly answered the call. He had run out of petrol and money and his pension wouldn't hit his bank account for a few days. He was broke and needed help. Not only did he need enough gas to get home to his apartment, which was less than a kilometre away, but he also needed to get to and from a dentist appointment on M