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When Easter and Death Collide

This year, Easter coincided with multiple deaths in The Dale community. The result for me has been a real wrestling with resurrection. In the Christian faith, we celebrate that Jesus died and then came back to life. There is promise in this that we too will ultimately overcome death, but for now we still have to stare it in the face. Three friends, in the span of mere weeks, are gone from here arguably too soon. Resurrection seems very far off. 

Death is an experience, as the band Mumford and Sons sings, that is so “full”. There is no mistaking that the person is gone, and yet it doesn’t make any sense. Clinging to a future hope while managing the reality of now can be hard work. It has me exploring the word “resurrection”, and delving deep into the story of Jesus, wondering again about what it all means. 

The origin of the word resurrection means “to stand” or “to rise up”. Some dictionaries define it as: “the act of bringing something that had disappeared or ended back into use or existence”. This actually brings to mind the ways that I have seen forms of resurrection. Like when a tree buds in the spring, or a broken relationship is restored, or sobriety is found, or a family is reunited, or health returns after an illness. 

In Scripture, all of the post-resurrection appearances of Jesus center on the physical. Jesus didn’t speak with a loud voice from the sky, He instead showed up with hands, feet, and scars. He embraced Mary, made footprints on the road with people, chewed on a piece of fish, and made a campfire on the beach to cook breakfast for his friends. It was in the presence of skin and bones that the disciples came to faith. Jesus turned the trauma of his death into communion with His people.

I love that Jesus used ordinary and concrete things to ground the divine. It makes me think we can do the same: that there is a sacredness in gathering, in breaking bread together, in doing dishes, in walking and leaving footprints, in sharing our scars. When I take a step back at a Dale drop-in and listen to the hum of conversation, notice the cups of coffee being shared, watch two people forgive each other, see the joy on someone’s face when they receive a compliment, I do believe I am experiencing communion while catching a glimpse of resurrection. 

In the middle of this season of loss, we experienced a person being brought back to life during a gathering of The Dale. It was at our Bible Study, while we were talking about resurrection that this person died, was revived and about a half hour later walked away. It was astonishing. It made me appreciate even more how shocking it would have been to see Jesus a full three days after death. I can’t imagine what it would be like to have one of my recently deceased friends show up, even if it is exactly what I long to have happen. 

The profound mystery that is the resurrection is one I do not expect to entirely understand on this side of things. In the meantime, my prayers for healing here and now will never stop. I desire for all that has been taken, broken, mistreated, wronged, and forgotten to be restored. The resurrection of Jesus is the promise I hang on to, sometimes by the skin of my teeth, when healing does not look like what I might expect or hope in the present.

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Homage to a Van

Years ago, Dion and I purchased a wheelchair accessible van with the financial help of many people. At the time Dion was in a mobility scooter and could ride into the van, transfer into the front seat, and drive using hand controls. Even after a wheelchair became necessary for Dion and he stopped driving, it remained an important form of independence for him. Our family can get around together, including to places beyond the boundaries of Wheel Trans (the accessible arm of public transit in Toronto). Since Dion’s move into Long Term Care it has helped us maximize time together. The van has also been an important part of my work at The Dale. It has served as an office, a storage unit, and a community outreach vehicle. 

Not even two weeks ago the van died. The end came as a surprise. I took it in to have the brakes looked at, only to be told there were much bigger problems that couldn’t be fixed. We got a second opinion which matched the first.

When I told folks at The Dale, I wasn’t sure what the response might be. I get that having a vehicle is a privilege, one that most of our community does not have. People expressed such concern and said they would pray for our family. Once again, I felt cared for and seen. I was also reminded that the vehicle has meant a lot to many people, including those who like Dion, use mobility devices. It has carried people to picnics and restaurants and funerals and waiting rooms and court. Once we had to transport someone’s beloved deceased pet to a clinic. We have rolled down the windows and blared music while travelling on the highway. There are a lot of memories. 

During last Thursday’s Breakfast-to-Go, someone expressed to me their true concern for Dion in all this. They went on to recount some of their favourite experiences of the van. Shortly after, my co-workers Joanna, Meagan and Olivia reported on two exchanges they had with people about the van. One person expressed their true sadness about its demise and how it really deserves a proper burial. Another mentioned how helpful it has been to see it parked in the neighbourhood because it signals that I am around. I wanted to both grin and have a little cry. Who knew a beat-up burgundy Toyota could have such an impact? I’m grateful that we have been able to share it in such a way that people came to count it their own. 

The van got towed away to a scrap yard last week. And so, with very little fanfare, it is now gone. We’re not really sure what is next. There are pros and cons to every solution we are considering, including not having a vehicle. I’m glad that the van, while we had it, was used to its full potential. I hope that whatever comes next will serve our family and extended community just as well. 

The windshield of the van was often decorated with gifts, in this case paper cutouts, by community members of The Dale.

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Four Topics that Challenged Me in 2023

I can hardly believe that we are about to end a year and launch a new one. As I reflect on 2023, four topics stood out as ones that consistently challenged me.

THE MESSY MIDDLE 

In this increasingly polarized world, there are very few spaces where people can dialogue across difference. This can quickly lead to the de-humanization of the ‘other’. Though it can be uncomfortable, I want to spend time in the messy middle. I want to co-create opportunities for us to learn from one another, to understand what informs our choices, and to develop empathy for the challenges and trauma experienced by others. I believe this helps to remind me/us of our common humanity. I also hope that this can lead to increased advocacy and support for the people and places that desperately need it.

CHANGE IS HARD AND GOOD

I have been reminded in 2023 that change, even the best kind, is hard. For example, after years of doing The Dale’s Monday lunch as a meal-to-go, we got a space to move back indoors and re-launch our drop-in. For some members of the community this was a return to something they knew well, except in a very different location; for others it was a first, knowing The Dale only through the pandemic; for the staff team it was both exhilarating and exhausting, a dramatic shift from our well-established routine of the last 3.5 years. What became clear very quickly was that we couldn’t just replicate what was in the past, not because we changed our values or vision, but because this was a new time and a new place. Change for us required being gentle with ourselves, and the community. We are still settling in, each week feeling better and better. Change, though hard, is also very good. 

NO ONE CAN DO EVERYTHING

This is a lesson I have been learning my whole life. There were days in my teens and early twenties when I tried to do too much because I thought it was required, not just to be “successful”, but to be loved. I have learned along the way (through struggle, crisis, therapy and my faith) that I am beloved not because of what I do, but simply because of who I am: a child of God. It’s not always easy, especially when there are so many things to do and battles to fight. The Dale team will attest to the fact that I talk a lot about choosing what we can do, and then working really hard to do it well. One of the greatest gifts has also been discovering the gift of partnership and community: when we rely on and support the gifts of one another, so much more happens.

SABBATH IS A GIFT 

To some the notion of Sabbath (in order words, intentional rest) feels either like a punishment to self or to others. If I stop, then I won’t get through my to-do list. Or, if I stop it will potentially come at a cost to the person who relies on me. Or, if I stop [fill in the blank]. Stopping can be scary- at least it has been for me. After years of practicing Sabbath, I have discovered that all of the things that made me worry about it have not been the issue. Stopping actually enables me to get through the to-do lists. Developing a plan for the people who rely on me has meant we both learn to rely on a broader community, and we both learn of our capabilities. So, what is the issue? It goes back to that basic fear that I have to earn love by doing. Sabbath reminds me that I am no one’s saviour and that life carries on without me, both humbling and freeing truths. 

On the cusp of a new year, I am challenged by these words of Henri Nouwen, “Did I offer peace today? Did I bring a smile to someone’s face? Did I say words of healing? Did I let go of my anger and resentment? Did I forgive? Did I love?’ These are the real questions. I must trust that the little bit of love that I sow now will be many fruits, here in this world and the life to come.” As I consider these questions, I also hope for more opportunity to sit in the messy middle with people who want to do the same (let’s get another Story Day happening friends!), to navigate change with gentleness and persistence, to work hard at the things I can do and remember that we can do more together than on our own, and to rest. May we all be strengthened with hope for peace this coming year. 

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The Fridge is Empty: the Reality of Food Insecurity

Food insecurity is the condition of not having access to the quantity and quality of food that is required to meet one’s needs. The Dale is in relationship with a lot of people who experience this type of insecurity, and we’re noticing a trend: more and more people are coming to identify themselves as “food insecure”. Second Harvest, a food rescue organization of which The Dale is a part, agrees. In 2022 the number of people served free food by non-profit organizations increased by 134%. The projection is that this will increase by another 60% in 2023. 

According to Canada’s Food Price Report, the average cost of food per month for an individual is between $311 and $347. At The Dale, many of our community members are unable to work and are therefore recipients of ODSP (Ontario Disability Support Program). The maximum one person can receive is $867 per month. Consider that the average cost of a bachelor apartment in Toronto is $1317. It’s not hard to do the math. Unless you have access to affordable housing (and maybe not even then), you already don’t have money to buy food. 

The line-up for food at The Dale meanders along Cowan Avenue. We set up tables from which we distribute bags of food, including a hefty meal provided to us from Second Harvest, served either hot for those who live outside or frozen for those who have the ability to heat it up. We include other items too- this week there was a bottle of water, a bag of grapes and a good handful of cookies. We admittedly don’t love having to ask people to line up, our preference being to eat meals around tables together. However, the pandemic put a cramp in our style that we are still recovering from. Our drop-in spaces all closed and have yet to re-open to us. 

There are some weeks where there is a heightened sense of urgency for food, especially near the end of the month. We try our best to assure people that everyone will receive something, even when we can feel our own anxiety bubbling up at the sight of the lengthy line. Somehow it almost always works out, for which we are incredibly grateful. 

Food insecurity can be difficult to know how to address, especially with the rise in the cost of food generally. It can be alarming to know that what accompanies the shortage of food is the alarming WASTE of food. Second Harvest notes that 11.2 billion tonnes of avoidable food waste occur in Canada each year, which includes, but is not limited to unsold food from restaurants, unharvested produce, and food left to go bad at distributors (not to mention our own refrigerators). 

The danger in sharing statistics and even about The Dale’s “line” is that the humanity of this situation can be lost. Not having access to food, a basic necessity of life, is a scary reality for a lot of very real people. And just think about all the additional benefits of food, including the way we gather around it and how it nourishes our spirits and not only our stomachs. Some of my most distinct memories are attached to the smell and taste of food. I can’t eat certain things without thinking of the people who first prepared those dishes for me. We hear similar stories at The Dale all the time.

Food has the ability to gather us together. May this crisis, which can help fuel our collective response to it, do the same.

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Corn on the Cob

I was handed three cobs of corn this week while hanging out in a parkette. This was to be added to a growing number of cobs in the fridge at 201 Cowan Avenue, the building that we consider The Dale’s ground zero. Every cob has come from the same community member, someone who is at nearly everything we do, including our monthly potluck.

The potluck is something that we relaunched just this year after a long pandemic-forced hiatus. The invitation is always the same: bring something to contribute as you are able, whether it be a bag of chips from the Dollar Store or something you cook. We will pile together whatever we get (we never prescribe what to bring) and turn it into a feast. 

I am often reminded of the story of Stone Soup when thinking of this gathering. The folk tale is about a traveler who enters a village looking for a safe place to sleep and a hot meal. The villagers can offer a bed but because of a poor crop they have very little to eat and are just getting by. The traveler offers to make stone soup, something unheard of in the village. He asks for a pot, some water and wood to start a fire. He drops a special stone into the pot, smells the aroma and mentions that stone soup is even better with a bit of cabbage. By the end of the story the villagers all contribute whatever bits they each have- cabbage, a carrot, a handful of mushrooms, creating an amazing soup that they all share. 

Apparently, there is a grocery store in Parkdale right now that is selling corn for a great price. This sparked the imagination of our community member, who felt they could manage to gather together enough change to buy and contribute corn to the next potluck. I have agreed to make sure it is cooked and will also be bringing butter and salt. I love the look on our friend’s face every time they manage to bring a little bit more. It reminds me how necessary it is for every person to have opportunity to give. 

I get handed a real variety of things on the street. I can honestly say that before this week, corn was never one of them. I’m really looking forward to a steaming platter of corn being added to the table, all thanks to our friend. In the Stone Soup story there was more than enough for everyone to eat their fill and afterward they declared it was the best soup they had ever tasted. Hopefully the corn and everything else that fills out the meal will hit the spot in the same way. 

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Outside and In

In March of 2020 all of our partner buildings closed, with the exception of one. As a community organization and church without our own walls, this required that we get creative about how to run our programming. Already comfortable outside, we took nearly everything to the street. We are very grateful to have been able to do this. And it is fair to say that we are eager to get back to being together as a community indoors too. 

The journey to re-opening drop-ins has been a long and winding road. One of our first steps was at St. Francis Table, an outreach founded by the Capuchin Franciscan Friars. They serve meals, restaurant style, for $1 and are a well-known destination for many members of our community. They agreed to share space with us for a bi-weekly Bible Study. Joanna and I arrive at 5:30 pm to eat, and then as a group we move to an adjacent room. The discussion is lively and peppered with questions and vulnerable thoughts about faith. Last week someone shared thanks in a closing prayer for our “delicious” conversation. 

Even more recently, Parkdale Queen West Community Health Centre offered us a room to host a weekly Art Drop-In. The whole Dale team heads over shortly after our Breakfast-to-Go. We set out a variety of materials for people to do self-directed work, including markers, pencil crayons, wool for knitting, paint, etc. The gathering has a remarkably peaceful feel to it. There is conversation, but also comfortable silence. Sometimes a person will offer to sing a song. We listen to music. Last week a first-time participant saw us outside after the drop-in closed and asked, “are [you] my people?” To which we said an emphatic yes. Her response? “And now I’m one of your people”!

The biggest hurdle for us has been finding an appropriate space for a larger-scale drop-in where we can eat together again. Just this week there has been movement in this area. While we don’t have anything to announce yet, we are excited to be in conversation with potential new partners. Your prayers and good thoughts are appreciated as we explore new opportunities. 

Though we look forward to continually be able to resume indoor gatherings, we don’t intend to reduce our presence outside. We remain committed to walking and connecting with people on street corners and in parks- basically anywhere around the neighbourhood. It’s one of the best things to be able to see friend after friend as we walk along Queen Street West. It’s where we get to have even more delicious conversations with those who are now our people, as we are theirs. 

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Annual Report 2022

I find that it always helpful to reflect on the previous year and all that it held. Sometimes this is sobering, for instance the number of people who are on the waiting list for Toronto Community Housing increased yet again to a staggering number: 80,532. What is encouraging is how The Dale continues even when the issues are so difficult. I hope that by reading this report you have a deeper understanding of who we are, and that you too find it encouraging.

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Take a Deep Breath

I have been out of sorts for a few days. The anniversary of the death of my dad, along with a variety of other challenging things has got me feeling more low than usual. I don’t like the feeling. I also don’t like the idea of pretending like it isn’t real. Life can be hard. 

There was space today to go for a walk with The Dale team. We stepped out into the sunshine and began to walk toward Queen Street. Almost immediately we saw someone who we haven’t seen in a while. They were headed somewhere so we simply waved. Moments later we were greeted by a friend. I had something they needed tucked in my van, so we swung back to get it. He said it felt like Christmas and gave me a hug. 

Outside the Dollarama we stopped to chat with someone. This person asked us how we were and noticed my hesitation to say “good”. He began to speak words of encouragement to all of us. At one point he looked directly at me and said, “I don’t know what’s up, but I want you to know you can expect good things coming your way.” Those words and all the others he shared caused me to well up. Near the end of our exchange, another community member tapped me on the shoulder with surprising and encouraging news of his own to share. As we walked away, I let out a long sigh and a few more tears. 

Near the LCBO a person smiled and referred to us as “The Breakfast Club”. More aware of the bracingly cold wind, we decided to cross over to the sunny side of the street where we immediately saw more people. A woman I have known for years gave us her sweet smile with a quiet greeting. Eventually we stopped at Capital Espresso to say hello and ended up with gifted coffees and a meaningful chat. As we left, we were greeted by someone who defaults to calling all of us “Maria”. As we departed, he said the first few lines of the Lord’s Prayer, waved farewell and shouted “OPA”. 

Now I’m back in our office, still sipping on the gifted coffee. Beside me is a container of Momo’s (Tibetan dumplings), handmade by a couple who we share space with. They had extra and all of us are going home with some. As I type I am trying to assess how I now feel. The hard stuff has not been erased. And yet it feels a little softer, as though tenderly held by the warmth, generosity and gratitude offered by such a variety of people. Joanna just sent a picture to the team that says, TAKE A DEEP BREATH THERE IS HOPE IN THE AIR. And so that is what I am doing. Taking a very deep breath of the hope in the air.

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When Small Things Become Big

A week at The Dale involves many seemingly small, arguably mundane actions. When a friend once asked how to describe our work, we (half) jokingly said, “we move stuff”. We organize food, pack bags, carry things up and down the stairs, walk around the neighbourhood, put supplies in our van, drive the van, and so on and so forth. While it is true that we lug a lot of things around, we care deeply about forming relationship. Some might wonder how such little things have any impact and do they really form community? I am repeatedly reminded that yes, they do. 

When we first met, he barely gave me the time of day. Anger, birthed out experiencing terrible injustice the whole of his life, would understandably boil over quickly. I was surprised when he started to occasionally come to our drop-in. I was even more surprised when he convinced his regular haunt to give him not just one free coffee, but two, so that we could sit and have a discussion. He told me then that it mattered seeing me and The Dale team walk up and down Queen Street. That was the beginning of building trust with one another. Now we are friends, who offer mutual care to each other.  

We have never loved having to do our meals “to-go”, something required by the pandemic. The line-up often begins to form well before we are outside with the food. This means that people witness the folding tables being set-up and the trays of meals being carried out. It is not unusual to hear a chorus of greetings or have someone offer a helping hand. Sometimes we will notice a person standing quietly on the other side of the street, clearly trying to figure out what is going on. Whenever possible a community member is the one who hands out the food, while we as staff mingle in the line. We’ve been told that The Dale line feels different, like people have learned they are seen, can relax and not push to the front. I was told just last week that someone now identifies us as their community and it all began with wondering about our line-up and getting a breakfast in a brown paper bag.

In M&M’s in the Pancakes I shared the story of a friend who insisted on making what he called “fancy” pancakes for one of our drop-ins (I just re-read it and I’m still smiling at the memory). Over the last number of years, we have seen this person in varying degrees of wellness. More recently he has been around and increasingly lucid, his natural humour and concern for others evident. “When are things going to get back to normal? Like when is the drop-in going to open? I miss setting up the tables and stuff.” This person has always taken our invitation into full participation really seriously. For him, and so many others, The Dale is a place of belonging. 

What it largely boils down to is that The Dale works to consistently practice presence, presence that is motivated by love that is patient and kind, does not envy or boast, is not easily angered and keeps no record of wrongs, protects and trusts, hopes and perseveres. We do it by walking around the neighbourhood again and again and again. We do it by making sure that whether we are sitting around a table or standing in line, we are doing it together. We do it by nurturing friendships over the long-haul, in sickness and in health. It isn’t easy or tidy, though all the things we repeatedly do in a week do create meaningful routine, the kind that we can all settle in to together. And it is in that pocket where we see: small things can become big. 

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Tent Fires

Recently a person that we were just starting to know, died as a result of a fire in their encampment. Two Thursdays ago, he lingered at The Dale’s breakfast-to-go. He wanted to help and carried some empty trays back into the building. That was the last time we saw him. 

This morning we received the news that another encampment fire happened overnight. Fortunately, no one was hurt but everyone’s belongings were destroyed. As we gathered some supplies for these community members, one person shared how devastating an event it was. As I write, I am trying to imagine what it would be like to have a fire rip through my home. 

The harsh reality for many people is that home must be made in a tent. There are few to no shelter beds available on any given night. Housing is the opposite of affordable. And while the City can exercise discretion and open Warming Centres before it hits 15 below Celsius, they rarely if ever do. In order to not die from exposure, people light fires. I would too. 

This is a crisis that impacts very real people: each unique, each with a name, each with a story. It’s likely, since we are more interconnected than we sometimes realize, that we all know someone who is acquainted with the shelter system, lived in a tent, or couch surfed. None of us are immune from the potential of poverty. 

Oftentimes the issues that surround all of this feel insurmountable, but I don’t want to give up hope because of that. Sometimes all I can do/all The Dale can do is look for the next little step to take. Today that means giving our friends new tents, sleeping bags and…

fire extinguishers.