Sunday, November 30, 2008

Of Angels and fortune

I am not sure if I believe in angels.
Well, not totally true. I think my daughter was one, here for only a short while to teach me about love.
But I think our generally accepted version of what an angel is, a clean, perfect entity, with a serene expression and calm demeanor, is more than a little off.
I do not believe Mother Theresa was an angel. Rather I think she was an incredible human being, one who saw angels for what they really are.
I think... no, I know… I had an encounter with an angel this past weekend.
You see, on the Friday prior to Copper Point’s 5th annual Feed The Town Christmas dinner (a free turkey dinner with all the trimmings for those less fortunate as well as everyone else, doubling as a food drive for the food bank), I actually sat down and had a proper and technical look at my finances.
Needless to say, it was not a pretty picture.
I am not sure just why I did not do the math earlier than that. Now on my own, a single mum, I should have had a more critical look at it all much earlier than I did.
But, woulda coulda shoulda, right?
The next two days I spent distraught, trying to figure out what I was going to do, tearful and afraid. Not a new story by any means. In our fair, idyllic valley, there are many families who are facing the same dilemma of how to pay the bills and feed the kids all out of the same static pot of money.
Sunday morning dawned, and I awoke with the thought that volunteering with Feed The Town would be a good way to take my mind of what I perceived as insurmountable problems.
And that is where I met my angel.
The role I filled, along with several other people at the event, was to make sure people had beverages, pie, and clear up after they were finished. I enjoy serving people, always have. Waitressing was always an enjoyable profession for me.
So what better way to fill a Sunday afternoon?
About mid-way through the day, I saw an older gentleman sitting by himself, dinner plate filled, but no beverage glass. So I went over, asked if he would like anything to drink, then brought over to him his requested glass of water.
I spoke to him briefly, about nothing in particular, and then went back to doing what I was there to do.
But every few minutes I would look back at him. And as I watched him from afar, I would see him looking around the room, savouring each bite of his meal, and now and then a gentle smile would cross his face.
He was dressed in clothes that were clean but well worn, and had about him the look of a man who did not have much in the way of family.
I was drawn to him.
As more people came in, and he was still alone at his table, I went over to talk to him and clear his plate.
It was a wonderful dinner, he told me.
I agreed.
Then he looked right at me and said, “This is so wonderful… this whole thing, the feeling… I don’t know just what to say.” His words were halted by an emotion I can only describe as a gladness at what he saw.
As he rose to leave, pushing carefully off the table and in obvious discomfort, he repeated what a wonderful event it was.
I opened my arms to hug him, smiled and said, “I know it is a little early, but Merry Christmas.”
He put his own arms out and I stepped forward. He held me in gentle embrace for a few moments, then stepped back and put his hands on my arms.
“Every day is Christmas for me,” he said. “Every morning that I can get out of bed is a blessing.”
He smiled at me, gave my arms a final squeeze, and walked slowly away.
I do not know his name, nor do I know if I will ever see him again.
But I felt tears sting my eyes as I cleared a few more plates, knowing I had just had an encounter I was not meant to take for granted.
I realized, in that one perfect moment, that my problems were not so bad. That all I had to do was find a way. I am strong and healthy, my boys are as well, I have friends and family that love me, and each day I can get out of bed without worrying if I can or not.
I can get another job if I need to, or drum up a little more photo business. I just have to find a way. That is the simple and plain truth.
A friend of mine told me recently that God does not give us anything we are not strong enough to deal with, and while I do not necessarily buy into any particular religion, I do believe in a higher power.
God has not put anything in front of me I cannot find a way to handle. I just needed to see that.
And to my great shame, I let myself wallow in self pity over what is nothing I cannot find some solution to.
I saw an angel Sunday, Nov. 30. One sent to remind me of my own strength, and to be thankful for all I do have.
With that in mind, I wish you all good days ahead, remind you to look for your own inner strength, and thank that man, my angel, for reminding me of a lesson I thought I had learned long ago.
God, the Goddess, Creator… however you choose to believe… believe. Or not. It is truly up to you.
But do, if you would please, believe in yourselves.
Blessed be.

Sunday, November 23, 2008

my first hat.... cowboy that is....


and my dad would have loved it...
I miss him.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

I am moved in. ish.

this will be my home for six months... it is a good home. I will be happy here. I will heal here.
must to the long overdue rounds.
xo
for now... my column. Goodbye to the YC... for now.

New beginnings

A little over a week ago I turned 39.

I don’t feel it. To be honest, I don’t think a lot about age. But the number is there and I find myself scrutinizing it as one would a colourful bug: interesting, but not interesting enough to really concern myself about. As long as it doesn’t bite…

With that birthday, the very same day, another event occurred: it was my last at the youth centre.

My time at the Summit has come to an end. I think I knew it was time about six months ago, but refused to give it up, thinking I could never walk away and be complete.

But it was time. Time for new blood, new ideas, new energy. Time for someone to take the reins and take it even further. They say a good leader knows when to let someone else lead. Hopefully I can fit into that category.

Time for me to walk away, much as a parent watches a child finally leave the nest. I have lived and breathed youth centre for so long , it seems very odd to think it will no longer be my first thought as I wake up in the morning. It is a bittersweet sort of feeling.

Eventually I will join on the board (if they will have me), but I realize I must make it a clean break for a little while and trust the new program coordinator and the incoming board of directors will keep things running smoothly. I am especially proud of one new board member in particular: Lee Meadows, who in some ways practically grew up at the YC, is taking on the role of vice-chair. I know he will receive the guidance he needs, and Lee, you know I am always just a phone call or text away. Incoming treasurer Diana Linde is also an exciting addition, with the skills required to keep the financials on track and in order. There are more new members, a few still from last year, and I am encouraged to think they will keep everything going, bigger and better.

My new job will keep me busy and my mind off what is for me a monumental change.

But I do want to thank everyone who has ever been a part of the YC, the various members of the board over the years, the volunteers, the donors (private, business and corporate) and most especially the youth.

You guys have been the light of my life, even when we butted heads and we challenged each other.

I watched so many of you grow up, sometimes make mistakes, but much more often make me proud. I know, I know, I was sometimes too stern. But you never failed to come back, and I never doubted the bond I formed with so many of you.

You know that I believe in you. Each and every one of you. You know I will always be around somewhere and when I do stop in at the YC, it will be to play a game of pool or some 21, maybe a little ball hockey or whatever we come up with. No more paper work. No more longs stints at the desk. With this retirement, I get to do the part I like best: just hang with you.

It might be a bit before I show up. This letting go business is harder than I thought. But I will get there. And in the meantime, you know how to get hold of me, so never hesitate to if you need that ear to bend or a cup of tea. What I have told you all still holds true. You know what I mean and you know the number, and for those of you who don’t, get it from one of the others or ask me when you see me next.

You are truly a part of me. You are the one part of the youth centre I simply refuse to give up.

There will still be a River of Change camp in the spring, come hell or highwater, so I suppose it is appropriate to end this column the same way we end the camp at closing circle.

“And with that, I’m outta here.”

Love always

S