(Grateful acknowledgement to Ona Kingdon for her wonderful, watercolor artistry)
In the autumn season of my life, I’m on a personal journey to understand certain inequities I’ve seen personally since my recent move to the big city life.
As a small town girl that went to university in Toronto in the 70’s and returned home, homelessness was not in my vocabulary. I experienced living on meager means, some struggle and having to make wise grocery choices. I worked as a waitress for extra money, but always had the monetary support of my parents for my schooling. I was privileged and blessed to have enough. I still have enough.
I only saw homelessness as reported in the media, but not in person, until now. It shook me to the core of my humanity and my belief in government.
Waiting can be difficult for anyone; waiting for a dream, waiting for an answer, just the uncertainty of waiting, but waiting for a meal or a bed to sleep on is unfathomable. My heart goes out to them.
Flowing tear for them
Nameless, voiceless, forgotten
Waiting for solace
(Image of homelessness by Lee Jeffries)