My family had another lovely Thanksgiving, seated around a table that’s deeply rooted in our beloved traditions of long and loving relationships. My partner Sam and I had driven several hours to pick up my niece and nephew from the train to join Sam’s small kids for a luscious feast and games at my sister’s home. We had a beautiful day together. Life doesn’t get any better that this! In giving thanks on this day I always think of how lucky we are, and remember all those poor souls elsewhere who spend the holiday alone.
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| “Fallen Angel“, by Tim Holmes |
After a lovely day Sam’s kids and I retired to her place for the night. There, on entering her apartment building we encountered a homeless man wrapped in old blankets before her door. It was Tony. We’d met with Tony several days ago at a fast food joint when the temperatures sunk below zero. Sam works as a peer support specialist for people like this with mental health conditions and part of her work is looking after those who suffer. On that day she was unsure if Tony might be volatile so she wanted some support. She could have asked another pro to go with her, but being short-staffed in these hard times, she did the visit on her own time (unpaid), and asked if I’d go with her.
My family has always been involved in social justice issues and charity work. But we often operate on the upper strata of the political and social arenas, not in direct services, so this was unusual for me. Sam wanted to check up on Tony and offer some services that might help him lift himself out of misery and severe alcoholism. But throwing a life ring is one thing. For it to work, they have to grab it. Tony was grateful for the offer (probably more for the simple attention!) but seemed unconcerned and resigned to his fate. (“I see either jail or death, I don’t care which”, he’d said.) As we left she welcomed him again to sleep in the warm hallway of her building.
Now, with Tony blocking the door, we tromped through the snow to enter Sam’s apartment by the back door. Inside, the kids began to play and I sunk into the couch, despairing over the situation. Meanwhile, Sam quietly made dinner and coffee for Tony and took it out to him. He, quite drunk but appreciative, thanked her. It wasn’t an hour later we were all tucked in our warm beds when we heard Tony out on the frozen stoop, just outside our window, retching and moaning. Sam called the cops to have him removed so the neighbors and we could sleep. (They didn’t come.)
Here my own polished sense of Christian charity was tied in knots. The poor guy was obviously in misery. At least he had the decency to barf outside, so why not let him sleep in the hall? She told me she had called Mark, a coworker who a couple years ago was in exactly the same position, living under a bridge as he fought addiction. Mark in now a professional liaison for the homeless and he too has been working with Tony for weeks. On the phone he assured her that–– just like himself–– Tony wasn’t yet miserable enough to grab the life ring. He had to decide for himself when it was time to heal. Providing a hot meal and warm place to sleep was compassionate, but was it helping?
It’s very hard for me to think NOT giving aid might be the better choice. But in the company of two seasoned professionals who are as concerned as I am, I have to say they know best. They have both worked to try to help Tony, but it is up to him to decide not to die. No one can do that for him.
Here’s where my own privilege does me in. I’ve never been in that situation, so I can only operate on what I know, following the “Christian compassion” that I know. But Sam and Mark know from experience how to be most helpful. Our system is designed mostly by people like me who may have good intentions but a simplistic approach. As a result the social service systems we’ve built are sadly lacking in responsiveness, treating suffering people like cattle; the more the better. Thus my Thanksgiving lesson: to learn to love not by class, not by easy solutions, but one individual at a time. If Tony survives his struggle with his demons, it will not be just because a bunch of liberals like me provided social services (which of course save millions) but because dedicated individuals like Sam and Mark loved the suffering person on the ground, where they live!
