John … Homeless In Abbotsford

“So, what’s your story? You look like you have a story.”
“My story? I don’t know what to say.”
“Well, where are you going?”
“Clearbrook. But I don’t know the bus schedule.”
“Where are you from?”
“So, how did you end up in Abbotsford?”
“Well, I moved here from Edmonton to be with a woman I fell in love with…”
“…so, if there were a crowd of people behind me, and you could say whatever you wanted to say, what would you say?”
“It would depend who was in the crowd.”
“Good answer! But, seriously, say they were here to hear what you have to say. You were going to give a speech.”
“I’d say, what’s going on in Abbotsford with the homeless. I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s terrible. Do something!”
His name’s John, he was a baker for Tim Horton’s back when they baked from scratch. He worked there for 7 years, until Tim’s went into “easy-baking”. He has a twin brother who works in Ft. McMurray, in the mining industry, in upper managment. He has two children: Cyrus and Tranton, 4 and 2. He holds up his phone. A voice emerges. It’s his, saying, “Say ‘I love you daddy’.” The girl on screen says, “I love you daddy.”
He fiddles with his phone. Holds it up again. “That’s my son.”
He starts crying. Tells you more. Big stuff. Sad stuff. Stuff he has to get through and figure out. Not undoable. Enormous, though.
You want to offer hope, so you tell him this: “Remember this: Everything changes. Look at nature. Nothing stays the same. That’s how life is, too…”
Good luck, John, wherever you are tonight! Find your way home.

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