This morning I did something I never imagined possible. I sent my picture project to the Minister at Eastminster United Church where I volunteer for the Out of the Cold programme. Walking into a Christian institution is brutal for me. When I was 16, a street kid, a Catholic priest befriended me and with the promise of food and whisky, he raped me. The priest who replaced him paid my brother, also living on the street, for sex. We were preyed upon, hunted like terrified, desperate animals. I hate Christians. Yep, I hate them. Why? Because I know to fear them. I carry fear, and with it comes hate. I know why it’s there, but it’s been eating at me like a cancer. So I’m coming back to my promise: 66 days devoted to loving and healing.
Still, I show up at Out of the Cold because of Gloria, the lead coordinator. I felt safe near her straight away. I could feel her power, her conviction, her heart. I took a chance and signed up to volunteer in the kitchen. I love feeding people. Even though I am now housed and have gone on to get degrees, when I am feeling lost, lonely, I need to find my people, those who live rough, those who struggle to survive, those who sometimes hope to die. I have been showing up at Out of the Cold for five years now.
This season I am out on the street handing out cookies and hot chocolate. I love talking to community members, giving them a cookie, thanking them for their donation, making sure they know a hot meal is being served in the basement. I feel like I am contributing to my community. I feel like I am part of the team that shows up with food and care. It feels good.
Back to the Minister, Bri-anne. Last Friday she stepped outside to restock the tent she has set up.
Instead of the usual scene with a homeless baby Jesus in a manger with a donkey and the wise men, she put up a tent. If baby Jesus were born today, that is exactly where he would be. I watched Minister Bri-anne tending to it and walked over to introduce myself, completely clueless about what it all meant. At first, I thought it was just an ingenious spot for someone unhoused, raised off the ground and living in plain sight for safety. I thought to myself, that is one smart person. Then she explained the concept.
I was overwhelmed by her conviction, her power, her heart. Here I am talking to a minister in a collar, the thing that usually makes me scan for a weapon to protect myself, and I am not afraid.
Maybe the work is working. The daily work of healing from child sexual violence. Of understanding why the street once felt safer than home. I do many things. I write. I attend workshops at The Gatehouse. I hike until my legs burn. I practice yoga. I step into cold water and let it bring me back into my body. The water is healing. It allows me to feel my body in a safe way, parts of me that once held terror when touched. I dance. I cry. I look for beauty wherever it hides. I look for chances to help. Yesterday I helped an elderly woman load her car. I did not wait for a thank you. The kindness was enough. I show up every day. It is hard work. I am determined to heal.
This morning I sent my picture project to both Gloria, because she used to head up ESL programmes at Seneca College and is probably still out there helping new arrivals in her spare time, and Bri-anne, because she is always looking for ways to support people who are struggling. Both live this work. Both draw a pay cheque/pension, as they should, because they help people find their way.
This project offers an affordable and meaningful way for people to connect with their loved ones while building community. It also functions as a strong and inclusive fundraising initiative. Together, we create a wall of framed photographs, with each frame sponsored. Those who are able are invited to donate along with a beautiful image that remains on display for 30 days, allowing the wall to continually evolve through diversity and rotation.
What began as the picture project has now been named. Through a community vote, it is called Light We Make Together.
People who are struggling are equally welcomed and included. Sponsors may choose to cover the cost of both their own image and one for someone who cannot afford to participate. This creates a simple and powerful pay it forward opportunity rooted in dignity, generosity, and shared light.
Here is the formula. Thirty per cent of the wall must be reserved for targeted underserved community members. The remaining space can be filled by anyone who wants to share their images of love.
There is one more guideline. Each photo must be taken by the person submitting it. To keep this genuine and to celebrate the simple joy of showing up in our own lives, a quick selfie taken at the same spot is included with each submission. It does not need to be perfect. It simply shows that we were present, that we stood somewhere beautiful and paid attention. Selfies often get a bad reputation, but they can remind us that we were there, alive in that moment.
The main photo must be of the natural world. No people, no buildings, no roads, no religious symbols. Only nature in her fullness: trees, sunsets, storms, flowers, rocks, rivers, lakes, mountains, animals. Let us honour her. She holds us. She is powerful. She loves us. Together we heal.
I am proud of myself today. Maybe I will learn how to stand beside a Christian without feeling the need to protect myself. I am loving this 66-days of acts of loving healing. I wonder what I will do tomorrow.