The singing bird
This morning I was woken by Declan at 3.50am. I was actually deep in sleep when I felt his hand and heard his voice. For a split second I didn't know he was calling me to get up. That is of course very good news – I am getting some quality rest. Still no Contact and Assessment Team (CAT).
Later this morning we are going to the Dellow Centre to ask for a sleeping bag for Declan. There shouldn't be a problem – it was the Dellow that gave me the military sleeping bag I've got. The Catholic Sisters of Mercy-run Dellow is a modern and spacious place, with big and formidable front gates. You don't get to just walk in, there's an intercom check first. From 9.15am to 11.30am registered rough sleepers can get some free food, watch a bit of TV if they want, or just hang about in the courtyard sipping coffee or tea. The centre closes at 11.30am and opens again for a couple of hours in the afternoon. Over the weekend, it's closed. We don't know yet where the local homeless get their lunch or dinner from Monday to Friday that does not involve a walk for us of hours.
While I was putting stuff into our rucksacks back at the porch, Declan was moving the cardboard to a nearby skip. Having finished my own task, I walked the remaining cardboard to the corner for him. Suddenly a bird broke the silence with a short song. I was quite amazed. All there was in front of me were two young trees in the middle of a small square in a built up business area. Nobody could say this bird wouldn't have had an easier time in one of the city parks. It actually gave me hope. No bird under the weather there! And his situation wasn't that much different from our own. He has to find food, maybe some water, and has to be warm at night – and in adversity.
Declan and I were making our way to the Whitechapel Mission when we took an underground walkway to cross the main road. There, off the walkway below ground, was a patch that some homeless guys had made for themselves. Declan doubled back to check it out and then told me to see it for myself. It was definitely a smart patch, with their beds protected by a wall of well-placed cardboard. And then I saw a small teddy bear on their make-shift table beside a couple of apples!
I immediately saw connection between this small group of homeless guys and the bird. All were in a bad place but getting something out of it. These guys were not stupid and you don't get to keep a teddy bear like that unless there's hope. And the same with the bird – he doesn't sing at 4.00am if he doesn't have hope. But that hope is only possible in these sort of circumstances with resilience. Then I knew I had it: the magic word for us on the street is resilience. We must make the best of our situation, learn to be resilient; think resilience, all the time, in every circumstance. We will then have hope.
Not only are we not going to be broken, but if it is decided that no CAT will ever come to visit us, let them. They are not going to break us.