Volunteering in Calgary to change the world.

I am making a plea to the world-at-large for your resources. Though it seems like everyone is making pleas for so many of your resources, this plea is NOT about money. It is about your time.

Sanctuary@Knox needs MENTORS. Sanctuary@Knox is a learning centre at Knox United Church that is open from Monday – Thursdays from 9:00 AM to 4:00 PM. Inner-city youth can come to learn whatever they want to learn. It is intended to be a safe place for these individuals to “hang out,” check email, learn new skills, and be part of a growing community where they belong and where they are valued without judgment. Research regarding the resiliency of youth tells us that if youth have the following, they will be able to meet the varying challenges of adulthood:
• the necessary skills to solve problems and engage in rewarding work
• a sense that they are part of a caring community
• a voice in directing their future
• a sense that they are valued by others
Sanctuary@Knox endeavours to provide this for the clients that come.

The clientele are all youths that are not living at home. They live in the emergency shelters available to them. These kids are not enrolled in school programs. Because most of them are “status” youths with Child Welfare, they are not brought before truancy review committees, as it is recognized that such committees really can’t force the kids to go to school. Traditional learning environments have not worked for these kids. At present, all clients of Sanctuary@Knox have been diagnosed ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disordered) and most of them (all but one) have also been diagnosed ODD (Oppositional Defiant Disordered). Traditional medications have not been considered successful for them. They have been out of school for extended periods of time. It makes the work with them extremely exciting and challenging. Normal instructional techniques do not work for long.

However, clients are coming. One client, who, in the past few years, has not attended any program for more than a few hours, has logged in close to 100 hours here. I can’t say that he is actively involved in a structured academic program; however, he continues to attend and wants to work on achieving his high school equivalency. In fact, that is the goal of all our clients at the moment, though there is much work to be done before that will be a realistic goal for them. The Government of Alberta is making provisions for us to enroll our clients in distance education for no fee and will negotiate the provision of funds to the project for every high school credit earned by them.

I am looking for volunteers who would mentor individual clients. The time commitment I am looking for is one-half to one-full day a week for the next 6 months (or half to one full day per month, per two weeks, for some period of time). You are not expected to “teach” in any formal manner. Rather you would be here on your given day, meet specifically with your client, and be present in the learning centre. In December I wrote the following in our newsletter regarding the qualifications needed:

"Once the program is begun, a volunteer is assigned as a “mentor” to support this young person on his/her journey. The Mentor simply provides a presence with the learner so that they have someone nearby for support. Mentors help by asking learners if everything is OK. Mentors observe when frustration is developing and suggest a break for, perhaps, coffee or a snack (we will supply the coffee and snacks). Mentors help by being able to reword questions and providing alternate vocabulary. Mentors help communicate that the person is accepted, welcome, and valued.

Though they are tremendously important to the program, mentors need no special training other than possessing good listening skills, an ability to remain non-judgmental with someone who is struggling to learn, and a large amount of patience. Having a good sense of humour is also a welcome quality, but not necessarily crucial."

Since that time, I realize that some training would be an asset and I am willing to engage in training sessions for those who would like to do so. These kids have very colourful vocabularies. Setting boundaries and establishing your own comfort level is part of the work we do with them. Their histories would make many cringe with discomfort, yet these kids do survive and have learned what it takes to do so.

We do NOT discuss religion, any particular belief system, or try to convert these kids. I have told them that we won’t talk religion unless they bring it up and we will only answer the question being asked.

We do use technology to assist these kids. During my doctoral research, I became aware of many programs that might assist learners and have upgraded the computers in the lab (3 machines) to have this software. You do NOT need to be computer literate to be a mentor. I take care of that portion as new clients arrive. It won’t hurt to have some awareness, but it is NOT required.

We also use digital photography, video, sound recording, web cams, etc. to assist kids. Representing their knowledge through video, photography, and sound recordings is one of the many ways we can build their expertise with language skills, editing, sharing information, processing information, and communicating with others. This all assists in transforming their self-identities from that of “non-learner” to that of “learner.”

Having said that this is not a plea for funds, we could ALWAYS use funds. Contributions are tax deductible when made payable to “Knox United Church.” Make sure to note “for Sanctuary@Knox” on the cheque. We can also use working digital cameras and video equipment if you have some lying around that are not being used. However, this is actually a plea for your time. Please consider us as you plan your volunteer time and think about how you could make the life of one of these kids change for the positive.

If you have an interest in being a mentor, please contact me by email (dmoulton@knoxunited.ab.ca), by phone (403-269-8382 ext 29 and leave a message) or by writing a comment on my blog. All volunteers must be vetted through a police check service provided by the United Church of Canada at no cost to the volunteer.

The continuing Journey

I will try to keep my postings shorter, more concise, and brief. It is not one of my strengths. I believe that I must look at all possible angles of a topic in order to be sure that I am not misunderstood.

The kids keep coming and I am now looking to expand my volunteer base. I originally planned to assign a mentor to each participant and thought that the mentors would come whenever the participant came. That would have been practical only if participants came once a week or infrequently. What is happening is that most participants come for a good part of the day every day. Who can ask that of a volunteer?

So now, with the advice and suggestion of one of the people on my advisory board (aren't advisory boards wonderful?), we are looking to ask people to come for half a day (or a full day) once a week. This feels more doable. I wonder if even this is too much to ask of people. What do you think?

In the meantime, I am finding that I have to close the centre whenever I have to be out of it for any reason. For example, we have team meetings every Tuesday afternoon from 2:00 PM to 3:30 PM. I tried just going over to my colleague's office for this meeting and leaving the kids here. However, they are all ADD. It is too much to ask of them to stay out of any trouble for that length of time. So I need to close for that time.

As I increase my volunteer corps, I will be able to stay open and leave for short periods of time and even for longer ones. So what does one think? Is half a day once a week too much to ask?

Almost a year later!

Can you believe it? Santuary@Knox is actually up and running!

It took the better part of a year to get going, however, it really is up and running! The Pilot is still underway, but the project has clients, we do stuff, and we are all learning lots!

Just a reminder....
Santuary@Knox is a learning centre that is run out of the church for kids who live and circulate throughout the city centre. Most of the clientele are not currently enrolled in a school. Most have not been to school in multiple years. The oldest person coming is 17, with the youngest being 15. These kids have all been under the jurisdiction of Child Welfare at some point with most of them being continuing clients of the Social Services industry.

Clients can come to the church to learn anything they wish to learn. This is an interesting phenomenon, because most of these kids really don't know what they want to learn, just that there is a lot of stuff to learn. As they haven't been in school for a long time, they really don't have a lot of ability to stay focused on anything for very long. At the moment, everyone who has come to Santuary@Knox has been diagnosed ADHD and have had very unsuccessful experiences with medication intended to treat ADHD.

The theory behind the program is to allow individuals to come to the church to learn something they want to learn. I have some good assistive technologies available. With these, I hope to show them that they truly can learn something and to transform their self-identities from being non-learners to being learners. It sounds simple enough, however, it really is complicated with all their history in schools, their individual histories at home and in foster care, their drug use, their experiences with incarceration and the legal system, and their understanding of what churches do.

I know that the process can work through my experiences in schools and through my doctoral research. However, this is a really interesting group with which to work and the process is far more complicated. The hurdles are huge and can seem insurmountable, What seems to happen is that, just when I am about to give up, something happens to give me a glimmer of hope and then I remember to trust the process. Things take time. It took more than a few days to produce all the baggage they carry around with them. It will take time to see real change happen.

Though I did state that learning is occurring (and I strongly believe that to be truth), there is currently very little "academic" learning happening within this setting (if any). First of all, the kids need to learn that I can be trusted. That is likely their first hurdle to overcome, though getting through the church doors is really difficult for some of them. Trust is crucial for them - to be able to take the necessary risks that learning entails. I think I'd like to write just about those risks some day, as it seems that many people do not understand how big a risk that is for these people. Maybe next time.

Learning to trust me entails all kinds of tests (good and bad experiences). There are purposeful tests as well as those that just happen in day-to-day interactions. Though I hate "being on guard," I realize that almost any situation can develop into a teachable moment about trust. So I am so incredibly intentional about this work.

Another aspect of learning about trust is me learning that I can trust them. This is sometimes very amusing, as the way adults typically trust kids doesn't really work in this situation. These kids are street survivors. One of my clients has been under the supervision of Child Welfare since being in early elementary school. Most adults have failed these kids - from their point of view. Their parents are seen to have failed to keep them safe. Teachers have failed to help them learn what they think they need to learn. Social workers fail to give them what they think they need. In some cases, the kids may be right. Whether they are or not, adults are not seen to be the source of a lot of care and support. So they know how to manipulate them to meet their perceived needs. Though I need to learn to trust them, I can not use the "normal" filters to determine whether they are trustworthy. Instead, I try to determine if I can trust how they might react or behave in certain situations. I have to learn when I can believe what they tell me and when it really doesn't matter what they say. The whole process of developing my trust in them is really a new experience for me and I feel like I am learning so much.

Just learning about each other is really an interesting process. As this is a pilot and the budget is minimal, I am alone with them most of the time. There is a plan for including volunteers, however, I have had to drastically revise that plan as I go along. For the moment, I have to accept that I am alone with them.

This has some of those closest to me extremely concerned. Because I am a gay man, they feel that I am extremely vulnerable to false accusations of sexual misconduct. Though this could be a very real possibility, I have lived with this all my career. As a male in an elementary school, I was often alone with children. As a secondary teacher, I was also often alone with students. There were times when we went on extended field trips in the wilderness, to Quebec, and other places where I would find myself alone with individual students. I have had to trust my own instincts and trust that when I am centrered on meeting the needs of someone else, my own behaviours will reflect that sense of service to others. In 34 years, I have not had a problem with it. As a trusted male in an elementary school, students often came to see me as a pseudo-parental figure. It is a common experience among teachers. As such, kids would approach me for different kinds of nurture. When a needy child approaches you for a hug, I don't think I can say "Sorry, this might be misunderstood by an observer, so stay well away from me."

This does not mean that I am not careful. I always ensure that my hugging is done in very public places where I can be observed by many rather than a few. I try to be extremely aware, so that I am sure that I let go as soon as a child begins to let go. I also am on the alert for any kind of inappropriate expressions. Otherwise, I become naively vulnerable. Some might say that I am being naive in spite of my diligence, however, I need to set my own boundaries. If I am here to help, then I need to be free to do so. All the same, I am extremely self-reflective about whose needs are being met and what my intentions truly are. So far, this has kept things clear.

So lots of the learning at this juncture is about social interaction. There is also a lot of two-way learning. They teach me stuff each day, and I hope they are learning from me. We share technological expertise. We share learning processes. We learn about each other. When they are ready, which will be an individual experience, we will enter into a more structural learning experience. At the moment it continues to be very experiential and not following much of a planned sequence.

I invite you to share this journey with us through this blog, which I plan on adding to much more frequently.

Your comments are always welcome.

Revisiting Water-to-Wine

We bottled out wine last weekend! It was a family effort with children, their parents, and some of our other congregational members joining in the process!

I remind you that we engaged in this activity as a result of our discussion of the Wedding Feast at Cana. Jesus and his mother were there, weddings lasting around a week in duration during the time of Jesus, and the wine was running out after only three days. Running out of wine would have brought all kinds of dishonour to the family of the bride, so Mary looked to her son to do something. Jesus, feeling that the right time to start sharing his understanding of the power of God had not yet come, replied that it really wasn't his affair. Mary, not to let her son off the hook, simply told the servants to do whatever Jesus said.

This is where I think the brilliance of Jesus shines through. He never even touched the wine, the containers it was in, or entered into the process at all. He told the servants to fill some very large jugs that were present for other reasons, with water. He told one of the servants to take a dipper of water to the wine steward. When the wine steward tasted it, he was impressed with the quality of the wine.

No hocus pocus! No magic! He chose ordinary everyday elements to use for this miracle. He had servants do the work. He also connected very strong symbolism to the entire process. Jesus often uses images of water in his stories. Water is part of all of us. Water also represents us in our everyday existence. Water represents the "mundane." Wine represents the "spirit." Wine is us as we are infused by the spirit. Wine become the reflection of our spiritual selves. By choosing everyday elements, by having the work done by everyday people, by not touching the process himself, Jesus lets us know that nurturing our spiritual beings can be something we do for ourselves.

So Jesus can do this in Kairos - the opportune time, the necessary time. As we looked at our process, we needed time - Chronos - linear time. So as we entered into our individual journeys from water to wine, we made the wine. Saturday, we bottled it. Here are some photos of the process we followed during the bottling. If you want to see the earlier wine making, have a look at the October blog entries.

Washing the bottles

Filling them with the wine

Inserting corks

Designing a Label

The final Product!

Justice: Where does this live in today's churches?

I attended a meeting last week regarding what our church might do to take a stand regarding Justice. We are encouraged to "Live justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with our God." When do we do Justice?

I do believe that the Sanctuary@Knox program is all about justice, but I also know that it won't restructure society, the city, or even the education system. I see it as my own, and whomever volunteers to support the project, justice action. When I think about the church "doing justice," I would like to think that it will have an impact. I would hope that it would transform, not only those who engage in the activity, but society itself.

I'm not naive enough to believe that it will all happen overnight. It will take enormous energy to find the type of action that most of the church community will agree to support. But I also want to spend my energy on something that is worthwhile and something where we have a chance of success.

I was very impressed that the Committee to End Homelessness presented their plan this week. I was very skeptical about the committee when it was formed. (I have an inherent mistrust of committees composed of business-people.) All-the-same, I think they have come a long way to find a plan that COULD be successful. I still think there are aspects of the plan that are missing and some of the issues are not addressed, however, they actually have a plan. I hope it has success.

What will we look at here.....?

Justice for Youth who aren't successful in regular learning environments

What is it about justice that we almost never consider children or youth as having Justice Issues? What is it about me that seems to centre on them first, before looking far afield for other causes for which I can work?

I suppose it comes from making teaching and learning my mission for such a large part of my life. I know the education system from the inside. I know how it works. It works wonderfully for many children and youth. However, it does NOT work for everyone.

One group in particular that has my attention is the group of children and youth that struggle with print text. These kids are not ready to learn to read when they come to school. They are not ready to learn to write either. School systems spend many dollars and expend huge amounts of energy to try to get these individuals ready for reading and writing. They do this in the name of LITERACY.

What is unfortunate is that we, in Canada and North America, continue to think that one is not literate unless they can read and write. Of course, this means that if you are unable to read and write, you must be illiterate - or at least according to the prevalent thinking about literacy. Being labeled "illiterate" is a very serious thing! It completely messes with one's self-identity. Most believe that being "illiterate" means that you really can't learn. If one can't learn, then why spend any more money or energy trying to help? It must be a waste of both valuable resources.

Another unfortunate aspect of this topic is that schools all over North America are primarily organized around using print text as a learning medium. Granted, in Kindergarten and for parts of grade 1, print text is not the central medium for learning. However, once the reading task is successful for the majority of students (around the middle of grade 2 to the end of grade 3), print text become the predominant source of information. This is true in books, on the internet, and even in what are considered as alternate resources: newspapers, magazines, pamphlets, etc. Many teachers employ audio visual resources to enhance learning: films, multi-media presentations, theatre productions, etc. But most teachers see these as enhancements, not core resources.

There is a hegemony of print in school-based learning institutions. There is also very little desire to review this hegemony or to evaluate it. Millions of dollars are invested in textbooks, novels, encyclopedias, resource books, anthologies, and computer programs that are primarily print based. Teacher training, especially secondary teacher training, focuses on print as the learning resource. Little energy is directed towards learning that employs resources that do not involve print.

After the first few years of schooling, almost all strategies for evaluation, especially standardized assessment tools, involve print as the primary medium. Even assessment tools that are designed to diagnose learning problems rely heavily on print as the medium of communication.

So what happens to the students who do not read and write?

They FAIL!

Am I wrong?

What is the result of this failure?

Our jails are full of them. The homeless shelters are full of them. Unemployment programs are full of them. Those who live in poverty have more than a passing familiarity with this phenomenon.

So I suggest that we take a look at youth, our learning institutions, the hegemony of print text, the injustice of a continental societal structure that continues to turn its back on those who learn best through other media and focus some of our "justice energy" in that direction.

We might actually be able to do something about this issue!

Christmas Eve @ Knox 2007

It's always interesting to try new things. I am an advocate of taking risks for growth and learning. I encourage others to do it, and I try to force myself to do the same. The thing about risk-taking is that there is no guarantee that the results will be what was desired. (I had originally written "positive", however, that is such a judgmental call. Who says that what happens is positive or negative?)

This Christmas Eve was my first as a staff member at Knox. I wanted to ensure that the early service (a major responsibility) would be something people remembered with fondness. So I thought I'd write a story that followed the journey that the children and I took during Advent. I worked hard on this story and tried to infuse it with all kinds of liturgical aspects and learning aspects that would make the story of Jesus' birth come alive for those gathered. We also added a multi-media aspect with images to enhance the story and we interspersed appropriate carols throughout. A time was also inserted for Communion. These aspects have been removed from the story that follows. It is lengthy, so "courage!"

Introducing the Story of Humaira

Christmas comes every year and we have celebrated it now, for almost 2000 years. It’s an old story. For many of us, it is a familiar one. Sometimes, when things become familiar, really familiar, we journey through them without noticing what is truly occurring. In our “mundane,” day-to-day lives, we might see this as a blessing. However, going through the day on “auto-pilot” creates a hazard that we might miss what is truly miraculous. Miracles occur around us all the time. When our lives reach that stage of familiarity that produces the “auto-pilot” function, we go along without noticing the miraculous – even when it is right in front of us.

I work with the children and youth of our community here at Knox. We have been spending Advent, trying to experience the birth of Christ; again, as if it were the very first time we have experienced it.

There is a tradition within the Jewish faith (and followed by many other faiths) of taking scripture and interpreting it to bring sense to it for contemporary meaning. The Hebrews call it "Midrash." We have been looking at the entire story and trying different modern-day interpretations of it to help us see the miraculous aspects of this story. Whether we are close or not is not necessarily the important aspect. What is truly important is how this might bring the scripture alive to us. Throughout the service, you will see scripture headings listed in the bulletin. We are not reading the original scripture verses. They refer to the scripture to which the story relates.

We invite you to do the same this evening as we sing carols, listen to stories, and hear anthems. Though most of the songs will be familiar to you, the story has some new interpretations. Try to experience the wonder, the glory, and the miracle that this birth really is for us in the Christian faith.

For those of you who are feeling like children or youth, I invite you to come up to the stage and listen, as these young folk are doing. We have lots of carpet mats to help soften the hard floor. By doing so, you may get a chance to do some of the wondrous and glorious things that might happen this evening.

Humaira

a story for Christmas Eve 2007

There were so many things that drove Humaira away from her family that they are not worth mentioning. It is worth mentioning that it was an amazing feat that she was able to do so and remain sane. She had been living on the streets for about a year when she first discovered that she was pregnant. She wasn’t planning on having a baby, she still felt way too young to be a mother. But here she was, holding her newborn baby. Standing beside her, was the young man whom she loved more deeply each day they were together. Though there was no rational explanation, she knew that they were going to be alright. This baby would grow to be someone special, and they were going to love him deeply.

It had begun, close to a year ago, when that crazy bag-lady walked by one day. Humaira usually kept her eyes straight forward whenever she came across the woman, just so that she wouldn’t encourage any comments. This day, however, her gaze was attracted to her as she walked by. Even more surprising was the woman’s demeanor. She looked absolutely gentle and loving. Light seemed to glow warmly from her face.

“Oh my God! You are the chosen one!” she had said. “You’re having a baby!”

Humaira ignored her. “You! Humaira! You’re having a baby!”

“How’d you know my name?” This is what seemed to concern Humaira the most. She knew well that she was not going to have a baby. She was very careful not to do anything that might result in more responsibilities.

“That doesn’t matter. All my friends know you. The universe knows you and loves you. And you’re going to have a beautiful little baby.” The woman seemed calm. She actually seemed sane, though Humaira knew that everyone thought her crazy. She wore her hair in snake-like dread-locks. Humaira’s friends on the street referred to her as “Medusa.”

Humaira looked kindly at the woman and said “Thank you for the wonderful news. I know that I’m not having a baby. I know that I’ve done nothing that could result in a baby. Thank you anyway!”

Medusa just shook her head and smiled at Humaira. “You are truly blessed!” was the last thing the woman said before continuing along her way. “Remember that! You are blessed!”

She didn’t mention it to her boyfriend. That was all it would take to see Affiz disappear for good. A baby! Things had been really stable and good between them. She didn’t need anything to mess this up. Humaira’s feelings for him were deepening. Together, they might have a chance of escaping this life on the streets. Individually, it would be impossible.

It must have been a month later that the doctor at CUPS gave her the news. She had gone in to check to see if she had some kind of food poisoning. Her body was feeling weird and she could not seem to keep breakfast in her stomach. Humaira could tell that the doctor was trying very hard to hide her true feelings about the news.

“I have wonderful news for you. No food poisoning, but I’m pretty sure that you’re going to have a baby.” The doctor was smiling, but Humaira could see the concern in her eyes.

Humaira, herself, didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “You’re kidding, right?” she had asked the doctor.

“Well, I can’t be sure just yet, but the test I did on the urine sample tells me that you’re pregnant. This test rarely gives a false positive. It’s more likely to give a false negative.” The doctor then asked some questions about her cycle and present health. By the end of the conversation, Humaira was pretty sure that the doctor was right. She couldn’t help thinking, though, that she had truly done nothing to have this result. It was troubling.

“As I said, it is still early on. Perhaps you and your husband should talk about what you want to do and come back and see me in a few days. I can help you with whatever decisions you make.” The doctor went on to explain how important it would be to watch her nutrition throughout the pregnancy, how important it would be to avoid alcohol, how to care for herself as well as growing fetus inside.

Humaira heard little other than how she and her husband should come back in a few days. Husband! She had no husband. She was convinced that she wouldn’t even have a boyfriend once Affiz learned about the baby. What was she going to tell him? She had continually put him off from being very intimate so she could avoid a situation like this. What would he think of her? She left the doctor feeling like her stable and deepening relationship was about to end.

As luck would have it, Affiz was there to meet her when she left CUPS.

“How’d it go? Is it really food poisoning?” He seemed calm. Humaira wondered how long that would last.

“Not food poisoning.” She responded. “You won’t believe what it really is.” She figured she might as well get this over with. She had resolved long ago that no relationship was worth lying.

“Let me guess.” He said playfully. “You’re pregnant!”

“That’s not funny, you know.” She responded, preparing herself for the next statement she would make.

“No, I’m not trying to be funny. You remember that crazy bag-lady who pushes that big shopping cart along the mall? Medusa?” Affiz seemed about to tell her a long story. Humaira tried to stop him before she lost her courage.

“She stopped me yesterday and told me that you were going to have a baby. She also told me that I wasn’t the father, but that it shouldn’t bother me and that I should raise him anyway. Can you imagine? I didn’t think she even knew you or me. I certainly didn’t think that she knew we were together.” Affiz went on to tell her about how this woman had told him that Humaira was going to have a beautiful baby and how important it was that Affiz stay with Humaira, how important it was to support her and help her raise this baby.

“At first, I thought she was totally nuts. I began to think about what it would be like to be a father. It wasn’t a pretty picture! However, I also thought about what it would be like to be without you. That picture was even uglier.

Last night, I even dreamed about it. My grandfather came to me in this dream and told me that you were going to have a baby. My grandfather died when I was four. But in my dream, he knew you. He told me that you were going to have a baby and that I wasn’t the father. He told me that I should stay with you anyway. In my dream, I decided that, even if you’d been fooling around with someone else,” he chose this moment to scowl severely at her. “I’d want to be with you. Isn’t that sweet?” Affiz gave her that look that he gave whenever he tried to convince someone that he was nothing but sweetness and light. She knew very well that “sweetness and light” didn’t allow one to survive on the streets.

“Not only is that sweet, Affiz, but I will take that as your commitment to me to help me raise the baby that seems to be growing inside me.”

At that point, she burst into tears. It was all she could take. She didn’t know how all this was happening, but Affiz seemed to know that she was pregnant. Medusa seemed to know she was as well. The only one who didn’t seem to understand how this could be true, was Humaira. The stress of the conversation with the doctor, the worry she felt about Affiz’ reaction and the probable end of their relationship, the complete bewilderment she felt about this story Affiz had told her, her own memory of what the same lady had told her weeks earlier all seemed to pour out of her as she sobbed.

She almost missed the fact that she was sobbing into Affiz’ shoulder; that he was comforting her; that he was consoling her; and that he was not beating a hasty retreat.

That was a long time ago, now. Since that time, some things had changed. Her body had made some considerable changes. She was now obviously going to have a baby. Humaira wondered if she was going to have a whole litter – she would never have imagined she could be this big. Other things had changed as well.

Affiz, who had seemed in the past to have had horrid luck in getting and keeping any decent job, had been working for about six months as a framer for a large established construction company. The company was happy with his work. They had promoted him to foreman for his crew. He was doing a job he had wanted for a long time. The company paid benefits and they had some long-term contracts for two high-rises that would keep Affiz employed for quite a long time. This was beginning to look like a secure possibility.

Between his job and hers at the coffee shop, they were saving money for the security deposit, the first and last months’ rents, and hoped to find an apartment they could afford.

An older cousin had moved to Calgary just after Humaira had learned she was pregnant. Humaira was not in contact with most of her immediate family because of some bad history. However, Her cousin, Elspeth, had always seemed more like a friendly aunt than a cousin. She and her husband were much older that Affiz and Humaira. Soon after they arrived in Calgary, given birth to her first baby. They wanted Humaira to provide childcare after both babies were born. This way, Humaira could still earn some money after the baby came. Hopefully, they might have enough money to get into an apartment before the baby was born.

The time was rapidly approaching for that event. She had stopped working at the coffee shop and had begun providing child care for her cousin’s new child. She loved taking care of him. From the first moment that Humaira had contact with this little one, she had felt a special connection. Even her own baby, inside, seemed more active whenever they were together. Her baby would bounce around like on a trampoline – only Humaira’s bladder seemed to be the trampoline. All the same, it gave her a wonderful feeling knowing that there were two lives that would be connected.

An important change for both of them was Inn from the Cold. They had seemed to have a regular spot at Inn from the Cold.

Initially, Humaira hadn’t liked using Inn from the Cold. There seemed to be a lot of restrictions. Affiz, however, encouraged them to go there. He felt is was important to have a regular schedule, an almost consistent group of friends, and he reminded Humaira that they both needed to be in bed early, not drink alcohol, and not be around constant cigarette smoke. Affiz was turning out to be a good future father.

The closer it came for the time of her baby’s birth, the worse the weather seemed to get. Today, the snow was coming down fast and furiously. The temperature was rapidly descending. They were glad when they got to the church and began to settle in for the night. Humaira looked forward to the time she would be able to prepare their own dinners. She loved to cook and she was fabulous at it. It was a gift she cultivated and appreciated.

As they arrived, there was a communion service occurring in the sanctuary. Humaira had never been to a Christian Church during a communion service. She was very curious about it. In this service, they served communion through a process called “Intinction”. She learned that there were two very important symbols: the Bread and the Wine. The bread represented the body of Christ, broken two thousand years ago, but represented today through the bread – a staple of every day living. The wine represented the Blood of Christ, shed two thousand years ago, but symbolically shared today through wine or grape juice. In this communion celebration, Humaira was taught to break the bread of life and to dip it into the cup of juice. That way, she was taking the body and blood of Christ into her own body so that the spirit of Christ could live on through her. She loved the symbolism because everything she knew about Christ or Jesus showed him to be a loving, spiritual and peaceful person. In her culture, she believed that everyone was divine in some way. She felt that this was a wonderful way to celebrate the divinity of everyone who took part in communion.

After dinner, Affiz once again provided the group with entertainment. He was teaching all those gathered a dance. Affiz and his dancing had been one of the things that had first attracted Humaira to him. She had seen him singing in an alley one summer evening trying to teach a whole group of men one of the dances he had learned from his grandfather. Having no music, Affiz was singing a tune and the lyrics were his directions for those gathered for the dance.

“Your left foot does this twice while you shift your weight to the right foot. Be ready to shift it back and do the same with your right foot. Good going. Now watch carefully as I join hands with the person next to me….”

Humaira thought Affiz had the most amazing singing voice. His grace, when he danced, bedazzled her. Here she was again, being bedazzled. “Good thing, too,” she thought. “My back is killing me and I need the distraction.”

Humaira brought a chair away from the table in the large room where the guests had just eaten and were now dancing in one very large circle. She was able to wave away those who tried to get her to dance with them. She just pointed to that large tummy in front of her and they backed off.

As they finished one dance and were demanding another, Dave, the Inn coordinator, came into the room. He had gone to a convenience store to get some coffee cream. “That’s a blizzard out there!” he exclaimed. “There’s hardly a vehicle on the streets. I just heard on the radio that the transit system is shut down until the snow stops.”

The cooking team began worrying about whether they’d make it home if the streets were so bad.

“I wouldn’t take my car out there tonight!” declared Dave. “You’d be crazy to drive tonight! You might want to think about staying the night!”

This did not seem to comfort those in the kitchen. Humaira went in to talk with them. “Hey, don’t worry. We are lucky that we are here. You’d be surprised how comfortable it can be on the floor. We’re safe here. That’s better than trying to get home and having an accident.”

Seeing Humaira, and hearing her talk this way was comforting for those who had prepared the meal. If she could relax in her condition, they should be able to do the same. “Let’s just hope you don’t go into labour!” replied one of the cooks.

Within a minute, the first contraction began. Within the hour, a private space had been created and an ambulance had been phoned. The ambulance could not promise when they would be able to get there as many of the streets were blocked with fender-benders and snow removal trucks that had slid into each other. They found a small room that looked like a classroom and made a space for Humaira in case the ambulance didn’t get there in time. Her contractions were coming quickly – almost no time in between.

Within ninety minutes, the population at this particular Inn from the Cold had increased by one very loud and noisy baby. Humaira had wrapped her newborn in clean dishtowels and was breastfeeding him as Affiz looked on in wonder.

About two blocks away, in an alley behind a large and elegant hotel, there was a group of homeless youths gathered by one of the exhaust fans from the kitchen. They had been turned away from the shelters that were filled beyond capacity. No one seemed to be able to take in anyone more. They gathered here, so they could keep warm and look out for each other. As they were planning how they would go through the night, Medusa pushed her cart rapidly towards them.

“Hey, you guys! Listen up! You know Affiz?”

The guys looked at each other and wondered what the heck she was going to say. “What do you want to know about Affiz?” one of them replied. “He’s no business of yours!”

They knew him well.

“Well, I have tremendous news!” she replied with an obvious excitement and joy. “A baby has been born! A boy! Humaira has a baby boy!”

The group began to shy away from the lady. They all knew that Affiz and Humaira were going to be parents, but they couldn’t see what Medusa had to do with them.

“Don’t be afraid!” she yelled back as they continued to retreat. “Wait! Let me tell you! This baby has just been born! You’ll know I’m telling you the truth because you can go see him! See that light shining above?” At that moment, the snow stopped falling and the clouds began to clear a spot just above the spire of a downtown church. A bright light shone from that spot.

“Follow that light! Go to the church below that light and you will find a beautiful and wonderful baby. You’ll find him wrapped in dishtowels and being held by his mother! This is a special baby – a blessed baby!”

As soon as she finished, a whole group of bottle collectors appeared around her and they all began shouting the same thing. “Go see the baby! Go see the wonderful child! Praise the heavens and let love return to all the earth! Peace be with you all! Bless you!”

In spite of some of their wariness, the group decided to go see what the woman was talking about. They went to the church. They weren’t quite sure why, because they knew that the Inn from the Cold rules would not let anyone open up to them. When they got there, they were surprised that they were allowed to go in.

As soon as they entered the building, they could hear the cry of a baby. Looking in wonder at each other, they went toward the noise. They entered a small room that seemed to be crammed with people sitting on the floor. Sitting in an old over-stuffed chair was Humaira, holding a baby. She was singing softly to him.

You make me so very happy,
I thank all the universe...
Even in poverty, I am rich with love,
for you, for your children, for your children’s children…

May love follow you, your whole life long.
I’ll love you forever; I’ll like you for always,

As long as I’m living, my baby you’ll be.

(Thank you Robert Munsch for the last two lines!)

Affiz stood next to her. He looked up when he saw them enter. “What the hey……?”

Darren, one of the youths from the alley called above the heads of those on the floor. “Affiz, you won’t believe this!”

“Try me!” Affiz replied. “I’ll believe anything.”

Darren continued. “That old lady, Medusa? She came running up to us and told us that you guys had just had your baby. How did she know? She told us you’d be here. How’d she know that? Did you know that there’s a bright light shining above this church? She told us to follow that light and we’d find you here. How’d she know that?”

All the quiet conversations that had been going on amongst the people sitting on the floor came abruptly to an end. Everyone was listening intently to the conversation between Darren and Affiz.

“And then, like, every bottle collector in the city seemed to appear.” It was Eldon, another of the guys from the alley. “They were all telling us we had to come and see you. Love had returned to the earth. Go and see the baby. Peace on earth!”

All the youths that had just arrived were nodding and yelling out details and their reactions.

Just then, the lights all flickered a few times and finally gave up. Dave, the Inn coordinator, and his team started lighting candles they had gathered just in case this very thing occurred. He expected some sort of power outage.

As the room began to glow, they heard the piano start to play “Silent Night” across the hall.

Throughout the night, Humaira sat in the chair, slept and dozed, and fed her beautiful little child. Affiz slept on the floor near her. His friends from the alley took turns ensuring that they had privacy and were not bothered. They also helped the team members with cleaning, take down, and breakfast preparations as the regular team could not make it to the church and they felt obliged to help out.

At 6:30 AM, the ambulance arrived for Humaira, her child, and Affiz. They went along only to ensure that both Humaira and the child were fine. They did not feel the need to stay at the hospital. They were going to Elspeth’s, Humaira’s cousin, house that evening and Affiz was sure that her cousin would insist on them staying with them. For once, he would not refuse. He knew that they all needed the stability that this part of her family would provide if only for a few days.

To their surprise, Elspeth had gathered all those relatives with whom Humaira had mentioned that she would like to stay in contact. This was originally going to be a surprise baby shower. However, it became a celebration of their child’s birth. As was accustomed in their culture, gifts of money were presented to the child, as well as those articles that every newborn would need.

The big surprise came about half-way through the celebrations when Shainur, Elspeth’s husband, took Affiz out to see his new garage. Shainur had contracted a garage to be built behind his house. Affiz could not understand why Shainur needed such a huge garage. When Shainur went to the door, he realized it didn’t go into the garage at all. It went upstairs. As they climbed the stairs, Shainur was going on about how they expected a regular rent for the place, but they would not need any damage deposit or future month’s rent. They only asked that they commit to stay in the apartment until they decided they could afford their own home.

Affiz began to realize that he was talking to him as if he and Humaira were the tenants in question. As the two entered a completely furnished, two-bedroom apartment, Shainur turned to Affiz grinning. “That is, if it meets your needs and your ever-growing standards!”

Through tearing eyes, Affiz embraced Shainur, thanked him deeply for his generosity, and told him that he really wanted to go get Humaira and show her.

“As long as this place is going to be OK.” Shainur repeated inquiringly.

“Are you kidding? It’s a place fit for a king!” Affiz bounded down the stairs and into the house to get Humaira.

The story doesn’t really end here. It goes on. It has been happening since the beginning of time and will likely continue into the future.

Now, it is up to us. Go forth, from here, in peace; knowing that God loves us, is with us, and is within us. We have seen, again, how the realm of God CAN be.

Which way will we choose?

May the light of the Star that yearly draws us to Bethlehem,
guide you to the way, the truth, and the life of the one born
this night.