Nathan

I wasn't really surprised to see him on the street. He always seemed very comfortable among "street people". And street people always seemed comfortable around him.

But actually, it wasn't by sight that I first recognized him today. I left work a little early to go to a new hairdresser to get my hair done - coloured high-lighted and cut, thank you very much. It has been too long since the last "do" and the frumpy look had to go. So, I made my way to the Epcor Building downtown and had a little visit with Dino -- my new best friend today! I was there for about 3 hours, which was well worth it! My hair looks fabulous!

I left with two muffins in hand and my wallet very much intact (great prices there), and made my way to the City Centre bus stop. Just as I was about to cross 102 Avenue to get to the stop, the light turned against me, and as luck would have it today, my St. Albert bus chose then to make its stop for passengers. With hope in my eyes, I ran across the street anyways (against the light), but to no avail. And so began the wait for the next bus -- I figured it would be about a half an hour IF I hadn't just missed the last bus.

There were alot of lame, hungry, drunk, drugged, smoking, yelling, cursing and begging street people at this stop today. I wondered if I would get to hang on to my muffins. I gave one away early on in my wait to a woman who asked me for change. As I listened to the chatter around me, I heard a familiar voice but couldnt quite place it. Looking around there were no familiar faces. A few seconds later, I heard it again.

That familiar voice was coming from a young man with a shaved head. His face was clean-shaven and he wore a nice suit. He carried a grey with orange trim knapsack and wore headphones connected to a CD player that was also gray and orange. It looked new. He wore sneakers as do many downtown workers around North America. All in all, a very attractive young man.

But wait, the last time I saw him, he had a head full of moppy dark red curls, held aloft from his head by a blue bandana. He sported a beard and wore very casual clothes -- jeans and t-shirts. He worked as a custodian at my church. Nathan.

I marveled as he either did not see me or he did not recognize me -- not sure which. I watched as he made a move to board the #9 bus to Northgate. At the last minute, he changed his mind, came and sat on the bench near me and made a call to someone to come meet him at Tim Horton's. He retied his shoes and started down 101 Street towards 104 Avenue. I watched and listened as he stopped a few feet away from me and spoke to a young black man that he obviously had not met previously.

As I listened, I thought "Ah yes, I know THIS Nathan." And as I listened, he told the young man about Jesus Christ. He spent ten minutes or so with the young man and invited him to a camp (Shiloh Camp or something like that). He gave the young man a business size card. And then I watched as he continued on his way. A block further, I saw him stop and do the same thing again.

Nathan. Good to see you!

Cesaria Evora

I went to a concert about a week ago. The artist was Cesaria Evora, from Cape Verde, Africa. The language there is Portuguese and that is indeed the language in which she sang. What a phenomenal voice!

Her opening act was a band called Tcheka. Frankly, I can hardly wait to get a CD of theirs or see them in concert. Incredible. The rhythms that come of out this band from Cape Verde were fantastic, and not often heard here.

What a night.

Hens

Well, it has certainly been a long time since I've posted, and alot has happened in the meantime. If you read my blog, you know that my mom passed away on April 13. I miss her tremendously and at sometimes very unusual times. Like yesterday when I was boiling eggs. Whenever I boil eggs, I think of mom. She was very particular about eggs being boiled or poached until the yolks were very hard. That is just something that has stuck with me, so I always think of her when I boil eggs.

I've moved into my own apartment in St. Albert, Alberta, and I am loving it. It is nice and quiet and I have complete roam of my home. I've lived alone most of my adult life, but have lived in a house full of people for the last 3 years. So, it is a relief again to have some space and privacy.

But, it gets lonely, too, and it is at those times that I want to call my mom. She had a natural gift for encouragement, and always mixed it with pragmatism as well. I find that I miss having that connection with someone who understands the past and present of me and so can offer good advice, knowing what I am really all about. I believe that I provided that same thing for mom once in a while, too.

I've been taking the bus from St. Albert to downtown Edmonton, where I work, and have been getting to know some of the ladies on the bus. I always choose to sit in the middle of the double bus, in the raised seats that face the aisle, and it turns out there are a regular group of women who sit in the same place. Today, there were 7 of us in the one spot, and as they were talking and joking with one another, I thought of how easily my mom would have fit into that group of hens. Even though she tended to be a bit on the quieter side, she always got along well in groups and would laugh and joke along with all.

I have a family here in Alberta, though, and a wonderful family they are, too. A couple of days after I moved into this new place, about 18 ladies from my church, North Pointe Community Church, surprised me with a grocery shower. I have never had anything like that and was totally surprised to be the "showeree" now as well! As they came into my apartment, they all sat down on the floor of the living room, and mini conferences started taking place. That is, every three or four people were having a conversation separate from the rest, so there were about 6 conversations going on. Rod, a husband of one of my friends who was there, commented later that it sounded like a bunch of hens. I just stood there for a couple of minutes and marveled at how easily these ladies socialized with one another and I LOVED the sound of their chatter all around.

There is something special that happens when a group of women gets together. Once my mom and sisters visited me in Arlington, Virginia, for a girl's weekend. What a hoot! I'll miss our little hen parties. But, I now have a group of hen friends that I look forward to having a hoot with now!

Thank you, God, for such a great family of hens who have spoiled me rotten with their generosity of spirit and resources as well. Thank you for an awesome church family who have welcomed me with open arms into their church and their community. I pray that I do the same for others moving forward.