Morning Moon

A howl out to Coyote at Singing Moon

The Bus Tickets

He is a young lad - he is maybe fourteen. He walks up to me and quietly asks if I would be kind enough to trade his two bus tickets for a loonie, "They are worth two dollars, you know."
Yes, I know.

I let him down for a second when I tell him that I don't need the tickets. "But wait," I say and encourage him with a smile. "I think I have a loonie that you can have." I search my wallet well aware that he can see that I have a couple of bills. I find three quarters, a dime and a penny. I place them in his slender hand.

"Here, you should have the tickets," he repeats.

"No, I really don't need them. What are you up to?" I ask cautiously, "Do you have a home to go to?"

"I'm just wandering around killing time before my curfew."

"Can't you go home before your curfew?"

"No, it's a shelter. I can't get in before ten."

As I write this, I've been home safe and comfortable for over two hours. He has just been allowed into the shelter.

He's about to walk away and I say, "Wait", and I give him five dollars. It seems such a pittance, but then I remember when five dollars was a fortune to me - it wasn't that that long ago.

We look at each other for a few seconds - he has gentle intelligent eyes shaded by a lock of blond hair.

He tries to give me the tickets a third time.

"I'll make you a deal," I tell him. He looks at me suspiciously. "Keep the tickets, and instead, one day when you are doing well, and I have a good feeling you will do well one day, I want you to pass on the favour to someone else, OK?"

He hesitates only a second, "I will."

I think that he believes me that I believe in him. And, I do.

As he walks away he shares his faith with me, "God Bless."

(In memory of Steven (Cactus) Beriault)

Miner Wisdom

My Papa passed away 8 years ago. We did not converse much, and yet he has left me with a heart full of dialog. I am guided daily by the advice and opinions he imparted on me - wisdom which I obstinately chose to ignore or argue while he was alive.

Tonight as I was awkwardly struggling with a drill, a hammer and a hacksaw, bloodying my knuckles, and straining muscles in an attempt to dismantle a broken sofa bed, I remembered a funny moment between us.

I was recently separated, and Papa was over to help me fix things around my new home. As we accomplished task after task (with him doing most of the hard labour and me assisting), I repeatedly and proudly exclaimed, "Ha! Who needs a man - see I can do all this myself!"

Abruptly, Papa grabbed me by the shoulders, held my attention with his calm blue eyes, and said, "Hey, you can ask Maman if you need proof, but I do happen to be a man... and here you are... needing me!"