=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= = F.U.C.K. - Fucked Up College Kids - Born Jan. 24th, 1993 - F.U.C.K. = =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= rose colored glasses -------------------- I want to look at my world with new glasses. For too long I have just watched the bright spots and realize now that I've missed too much around me. These notes are attempts to share those new found vistas as I become aware of them. =-= Yesterday, as I drove up to the shelter, I saw them, huddled together in the frigid wind, waiting. Tired, gray men, mostly. Beaten down and resigned, anticipating the moment when the door would open and for a few hours, at least, they could retreat from the street. I've been coming here for years. So many faces are familiar by now. And yet each time there are new people too. People with luggage, I call them, because they have not yet learned to shed their suitcases and bags. Silently the guests queue up for mail or soap or a chance to use the iron. For some, there is still a desire to look fresh. But for most, there is the taint of too few showers and unwashed clothes. There is generally a stench about the shelter - a kind of musky heavy smell that defies description - a smell that I've never smelled any where else. After all these years, I seldom seem to notice it any more. Religious Mass is held and then the services begin to open around the big room. Showers start and the nurse begins to see patients. Alcohol counseling is offered and job referrals. Some people do a few odd jobs so that they can get a change of clothing. There are always more jobs available than there are people who are interested in doing them. Mail is very busy. Sometimes I wonder why I come down here every Sunday. I long ago realized I would not directly change anyone's life here. The early optimism of "making a difference" was quickly erased. Later, working with the alcoholics, I've had this realization reinforced. Where it would have seemed that the people on the street would be ready for a chance to improve their lives, I have found they are highly resistant to change. Working in the shelter has come to be much like I imagine working in a hospice would be. By that I mean that we make the residents comfortable. We offer many more things to them. But most go unused. Still there have been successes too. People have come and shared parts of their lives. There have been those moments where that spark of delight has flashed in eyes across the counter. There have been those times where I've felt like I did make a difference. Noon approaches. Soon the men and the occasional woman will begin to drift out, heading for the catholic soup kitchen or perhaps to the Samaritan shelter to wait for a bed. The nurse shuts down her clinic. The alcohol session has been ignored again. The mail is put up. The door is closed and locked. And after gathering for a closing prayer, we go too. Part of my dichotomy. From there I go backstage at the Nutcracker to watch the ballet. Somehow it seemed fitting to have a day grounded in both sides of the spectrum. Sitting in the darkened wings, watching the young ballerinas bouncing and jumping to limber up for their moment on the stage reminded me of football players anxiously waiting for their moment of glory. I was surprised that the large cast was mostly teenage girls. But then I realized that most boys are probably not interested in ballet. It was the second to the last performance and I could feel the exhaustion in the wings. They are ready for this year to end. During intermission we went out into the crowd in their furs and jewels. It seemed so far far far away from the shelter of the morning. I can appreciate both worlds. There have been moments in my life where I've felt like I have been outside looking in. And other moments where it seemed nothing could be better. But what I realize is that both of these are part of all of us. Those faceless homeless lonely men and those dancing whirling ballerinas and those comfortable contented matrons are all part of the whole. We, each of us, have our roles to fill, our parts to play. I know that for me the opportunity I have been given has made my life richer. Each of these people, whether they will ever know it or not, bring joy to my life. And it makes me hungry for more. Thank you for being a part of that life force. Regardless of our individual and collective outcomes, your life has given a spark to mine. And it seems to me that that is what all of this is all about. Smiles. 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