For Robyn and me, Christmas isn’t working out very well for
us; no Christmas cards sent, no presents, the decorations and the tree are stuck
on the loft while my back and bronchitis are keeping me firmly on the ground
floor.
On Wednesday evening Robyn dragged me down to her church in
Isleworth and that takes quite some doing I can tell you, because I am not religious.
There are a lot of homeless people in West London and the
state doesn’t do anything for single men. Behind the normal world there are
people sleeping in the gaps, down the alleys, by the canal, in the parks,
dodging the cold….struggling.
In the winter, the churches in West London take it in turns
to offer shelter to the homeless so that on any given night there is somewhere
to stay, if you need it.
This is the table at the door where you can stock up on
razors and soap, toothbrushes and toothpaste. It’s tough out there but here you
can have your toe nails cut, take a wash, have a meal, get a bed for the night;
Us volunteers were there to cook, to serve the food, to have
a chat and a laugh with the people who were staying for the night.
For me it was really nice; I spent my ‘working life’
representing vulnerable and homeless people and I always felt that it was a
privilege to do so.
I was in good company; Pawel with his ‘Travis Bickell’ Mohican
haircut straight from the movie ‘Taxidriver’ and a prison issue crucifix around
his neck, John who walked from Edinburgh to London 22 years ago and never went
back. A Polish banker who was a currency trader but lost his job when he lost
his bank a load of money.
We shared a wonderful meal and played a couple of games of
dominoes. We laughed.
Russians, Scots, English; homelessness has no prejudices.
I managed to dodge the prayers (I’m good at that) but we had
a great evening with a wonderful bunch of people who reminded us how lucky we
are.
I wonder where they are sleeping tonight…...it’s cold.
Neil Harris
(a don’t stop till you drop production)
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