Good-bye Autobins

The problems are evident

Beloved bin beside the new bins

Adios, Autobin

Beauty and the North End

As I was walking in the community, I was struck with how important beauty is.  This thought came to me as I noted the lack of beauty reflected in the barrenness of a completely paved lot surrounding a residence, the garbage accumulated over winter, the run-down buildings and fences, and the boarded up windows and un-landscaped yards.  As I turned a corner, barred windows came into view, but in the same lot there was a garden and gazebo-like structure.  What a difference that bit of creativity and promise of living things made in how I perceived that home—even with the bars on the windows.  It was a breath of fresh air—a stirring of hope for me and for this community.

I’ve lived in the heart of the North End for nearly six years now.  When we bought our home, the yard was undeveloped—dirt and weeds—with dilapidated fencing on either side.  We’ve had great plans for our yard.  Some have become a reality, some have shifted due to economic constraints, and some just haven’t happened at all.

I have to admit, at times I am just lulled into complacency by the lack of attention that the majority of yards receive in my area.  At other times, I feel pulled in so many directions that my yard is the last thing on my to-do list.  Sometimes, I’ve let fears of looking too rich or becoming a target for vandalism or robbery get in the way of improving my yard.  Most of the time, I’ve experienced what I think many in my neighbourhood experience:  the lack of resources and skill/knowledge to carry out my ideas, and the feeling of helplessness and despair that goes along with that.

Thankfully, we managed to get an exterior fix-up grant our first year and were able to have a solid fence installed.  We’re very proud of what we’ve been able to do on a budget.  It’s amazing what a little planning, planting, and perspiration can do to make a yard feel welcoming and uplifting.

That’s what beauty does.  It infuses hope into our hearts.  It makes us want to linger in its presence.  It says, “All is well and all shall be well”. (I’m indebted to John and Stasi Eldredge for some of these thoughts).  We feel safer in a place of beauty.  That’s what we need in the North End.  Places of oasis, of life. They don’t need to be flashy or expensive.  Simply picking up the garbage that flies into my yard, planting a few seeds into a pot for my front step, pulling some weeds, or painting my front door can help.  It all makes a difference.  

It does take time.  Sometimes it feels risky.  Sometimes we may want to give up (like I felt when the paint on my door peeled off or when someone stole my Christmas garland), but we must refuse to give up.  Beauty is important.  So let’s work together at making the North End a more beautiful place to live.

Easter, Jesus, and the North End

He was homeless.  Got in trouble with the law-enforcers.  Hung out with the wrong crowd.  Was arrested.  Betrayed and abandoned by his friends.  Mocked, spit on, stripped, and beaten.  He died a criminal’s death.

This was Jesus.  He wasn’t from the North End, but from Nazareth.  Still, I think he could relate to many in this neighbourhood.

He lived a simple life with not too much to call his own.  He learned a common trade in order to get by.  He told great stories, and cared more about people than image.  He got angry with greed and was compassionate with the needy.  He fed the hungry and reached out to the outsiders.

This was Jesus.  He didn’t walk the streets of the North End, but I think he would be welcome here.  He gave and gave and gave, right to the end of his life.

He was misunderstood, lied about, and mistreated; and yet, he didn’t fight back.  He walked a path of peace.

He challenged the leaders of the day, he chastised the self-righteous, and he was a champion of the oppressed.  He walked a path of justice.

He rescued a woman from death, he healed the sick, and he ate with outcasts.  He walked a path of mercy.

When he walked the path of the cross, his mother was there, sobbing for the son she lost.  His friends were devastated and confused over his untimely death.  They couldn’t believe he was gone.

And on the third day, when the women came to the tomb and he was gone—nowhere to be found—they were frantic.  Angels told them it was good news: he had risen just as he said.

He called Mary by name, he beckoned doubting Thomas to touch his hands and side, he walked and talked with two friends who didn’t recognize him until he paused to give thanks for a meal they were about to eat; and when he finally left the earth, he promised a counselor and comforter would come and take his place.

Jesus walked among us as one of us.  He embodied love.  He enacted justice.  His life, death, and return to life continue to give hope to people around the world.  And hope is what we all need, especially here in the North End.

A Fresh New Year

I’m enjoying the mild temperatures, but I long to wake up to a fresh, thick blanket of white snow covering everything (un-raked brown leaves, dirty slush piled on the side of the road, garbage, and every tree branch, fence post, and sidewalk), just like it did at the end of November.  A fresh snow would go well with the fresh start of the New Year.  

We’ve closed the chapter of another year with all of its trials, troubles, mistakes and muddles.  Just as snow covers up all sorts of messes, the New Year causes our difficulties to disappear from sight as our focus shifts to the clean white page in front of us.  We begin to make plans of all we’d like to do, and the possibilities seem endless.

Of course, just as well-wintered Winnipeggers know that the pristine whiteness will not last forever, we all know that the year ahead will not consist only of ideals met.  In fact, as we leave the portal of New Year’s beginning and forge the path to where we want to go, we may suddenly feel bogged down by the reality of all the hard work required to get to our destination.

What we need to do is take in the beauty all around us and enjoy the journey.  See the squirrel scamper across the snow and up the tree.  Share a laugh with travelling companions.  Maybe even make some snowballs and play a little.  Try not to rush toward the end goal, getting frustrated and irritated at the slowness of it all.  Trust that everything will work out in the end.

It’s not always easy to trust though.  The newness of the snow wears off.  Clumps of snow drop from the branches, cars spit up bits of brown, un-shovelled steps grow slippery as the temperature shifts, and the wind can pick up.  There are dangers and pitfalls ahead in the New Year, no doubt.

If we let the inevitability of problems steal away our joy as we the turn the page of a new year, we rob ourselves of the dual energies of joy and hope to fuel our endeavours.  Joy comes while we’re living in the moment, revelling in all we have and can be thankful for.  Hope looks to the future, trusting that there will continue to be reason for thanks, and therefore, joy.

As I enter this New Year, I am thankful to live in a neighbourhood that allows me affordable housing, a chance to know my neighbours, and the freedom to be myself and follow my dreams without having to conform to an image.  I am hoping to get more involved in making my community a better place to live, and in making my home a safe place for people to gather.

We’ve been given a fresh start called 2012.  Let’s celebrate the New Year and all it will bring.  And let’s ponder how we can participate in our communities to bring goodness, joy, and hope!