I Am

… 95 % wrong on everything.

… a joker 99% of the time.

… a good cook of Italian foods.

… a cab driver in five states and ten cities.

… a traveler.

… a moose watcher.

… a movie lover, a dancer, and a card player.

… a pool player.

… unmarried.

… 64 years old, and have had three heart attacks, three strokes, congestive heart disease, high blood pressure, diabetes, arthritis, you name it.

… happy to be at The Gathering Place.

~Jim Clark

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How to Celebrate the Holidays

I have an idea of how to celebrate this year’s Holiday Season. Holidays are hard and can be very difficult even when a family is just perfect. (And when is that?) But holidays are especially hard for the homeless and downtrodden.

The Gathering Place is more than a sanctuary. without it some of us would be going back to the gas station bathrooms. There are things you can’t experience and can’t talk about unless you have to live on the edge. So here is what we should do. Have a marathon. Leave the lights on and the heat on all night. Invite LePage, King, Susan Collins, Olympia Snow to spend a night with the homeless. Ask for donations to be used to better help people.

This is my idea. Maybe it will be a seed.

~Mitch Kane

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Homeless

When home is lost, much is lost. There is much more lost than just the outside structure of the home. Many feelings that are within the homeless person usually involves the interior structural makeup of that person which could include such things as feelings of insecurity, concerns for safety, the need to belong and be accepted. The desire to be treated by others in society as an equal, to be respected and included. We(the homeless) are treated unjustly and cruel by other members of society for many reasons, one reason being less than (others). Some people feel that is acceptable.

We (the homeless) are anyone within the realm of society that happen to fall beyond that invisible, fine line that circumstances have caused us to pass over. Once there it becomes a war that we struggle to fight and to win and for some it is temporary but for others it is ongoing and almost impossible to win, so we just give up. Because sometimes the battle is long and hard and it weakens us to the point where giving up is sometimes easier than trying. So some of us win and others do not.

Homeless is a label that is used to try and define to others that it usually involves a person that has no place to live, which is true in some way. But to get the true definition of the word would be greater understood if it had been truly lived by someone who has endured that lifestyle.

Yes, I am homeless. What exactly does that mean? It means that I am still the same person that I was before becoming homeless. I have the same hopes and dreams and desires as anyone else. I am not less, I am equal. Even though my spirit has been injured, it has not died, it still remains.

Just because I do not have a structural home to live in doesn’t give others the right to judge me. Only God can judge me. This life and place in which I live now is only temporary, it is a stepping stone that I must go through until God fulfills his promise to take me to my real home where my struggles will be over and finally the battle will be won.

~Charlene Swain Matts

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Home

Home is where the puzzle has all its pieces!

Home is not only where your heart may be. It can be many things such as a safe haven, a place where love starts and grow. A place where people start families, raise their children, carry on or start new traditions. It can be a place where other family members or friends come to visit and possibly enjoy a meal together or just spend time enjoying each others company.

The material structure of the home as far as being safe would be important to me but the life inside would be of more importance. Like hearing the little giggles of my sons when they were small and watching them as they grow, my mind storing up memories for a day that I knew would come, when they would be grown and gone and I would be left there behind trying to remember every little thing that went on while we were together.

Remembering good times, bad times, happy times and sad times and longing for a repeat of the most important part of all, the love that we shared as a family, the fulfillment that came from the smallest things accomplished. A home can come in many shapes, sizes and forms. It truly is what’s inside that counts, even if material things are few, the house can be a home when love resides within.

~Charlene Swain Matts

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Home

When I smell the fresh sea air of home, I know I’m in the place where I belong. Fresh sea air brings visions of beaches I would go to as a child and young adult. I can see the sea gulls hovering, waiting for a chance to grab a chip or cracker. I can feel the soft, warm sand on my feet, waiting to be fashioned into a castle or perhaps a town. And always the surf is rolling in and out, threatening the castle or town with destruction.

I always love the feel of the cold ocean water. It is invigorating and makes me feel alive. When I go into the ocean, I allow my body to go numb. Then I can stay in the water for a long time, body surfing the waves.

I also love climbing the rocks, staring into the little pools made by the waves at high tide that have clams and barnacles living in them. I love staring out to the horizon. Staring out to its vastness makes my problems seem small and insignificant. They don’t amount to a lot in the face of all the huge problems the world is facing.

On our first wedding anniversary my husband and I were supposed to go on a daylong sail on Casco Bay. Unfortunately the rain poured that day and we didn’t get to go. I’ve always wanted to do that. Sailing for a day on Casco Bay is on my bucket list.

Perhaps living in a town close to the sea is part of who I am as a person. I need to be able to smell that fresh sea air. I need to be able to see those sea gulls flying overhead. I need to know that the ocean is not too far away.

~Cathy Lynch

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