angels show up in the strangest of places.
It was May 6 and I was hungry. It was late. I wanted a bagel and an ice cap so I pulled on a sweater, shoes and stuffed my money and keys into my pocket. The plan was to make the quick trip and bring the food back with me - a quick in-and-out trip - but before I closed the door to my apartment, I grabbed my phone, too. Just in case, you know?
There is a Tim Hortons less than five minutes from my apartment if you take the shortcut - through the parking lots, down a little narrow path by the garbage shed for one of the neighbouring buildings. I use this shortcut daily: to go to work, to go to the gym across the street, to go to the mall...it's the fastest way to get to Prospect Street from my place. I was crossing the back parking lot when I heard him.
"Someone help me."
It was dark and hard to tell where the voice was coming from at first. After a moment, I realized it was coming from under one of the trees beside the shed. I approached carefully, not getting too close as I was alone and not totally sure what going on.
"Someone help me. I'm going to have a seizure. I need to go to the hospital."
He started convulsing while I was on the phone with the 9-1-1 dispatcher, trying to explain how to get to where I was.
And while all this was happening, people walked right by, ignoring both of us even though it was obvious something wasn't right.
The man was homeless. When the paramedics arrived, they knew him by name and told him that he really needed to lay off the Listerine as they lifted him onto the stretcher. To me, they explained that he had just been released from the hospital, located a short distance from my building, a few hours prior. He was a regular there. They packed him into the ambulance, thanked me and left. I put my phone back in my pocket and continued on to Tim Hortons.
When I got home, I ranted on Facebook (of course) about what had happened - how people had just walked by, without a care in the world, and why? Because of who he was? Because they don't know him? They were in a hurry? Whatever the case, the fact of the matter was this: that man was unimportant to them.
Which made me wonder how many other people he had been "unimportant" to.
I grew up Christian, but by the end of my university education, I was indifferent about the whole thing. A faith that had once been strong was worn by four years of what I can only describe as college-age antics and dramatics. Breakups, hookups, a dangerous interest in nightlife and an education that encouraged questioning everything - especially your core belief system. I'm not saying this is a bad thing - particularly if you come out the other side - but admittedly, it was a dark time.
But I felt happy enough. And that was enough, right?
That night in the parking lot, I realized it wasn't. It wasn't enough to be "happy enough." We're all in this together, yes, but the idea that this is all there is can't be true. Life can't just be about chasing down highs and collecting material things, making it through each day and then...that's it. There's got to be more.
Because if there isn't, that makes all of this as unimportant as that man was to all those people. And I just don't buy that.
We don't just stay here for a period of time, accomplish a life's worth of random tasks, then die. How hopeless is that? No. The point of all this is the destination.
And that makes everything important.
***
The purpose of this blog is to provide an outlet to share what's on my mind and heart. I don't think I'm especially interesting, so it's more for me than anything else.
Plus I need a place to post photos of my cat. You've been warned.
(also this song is totally worth listening to. Actually, the whole CD is worth listening to.)
