I fall under the third category. Despite a hatred of the cold: I love the snow. It is beautiful and (even though people are terrible drivers) magical. But there is no “snow day” from being homeless. People don’t get to leave work early from homelessness.
At Sunday Breakfast, we try to make life a little easier for homeless men, women, and children in Philadelphia. Our Day Room is packed with men and women who are just looking for a warm place to spend the day. As an added touch of home: we are serving hot & hearty soup for lunch just like mothers everywhere on Snow Days. Later today we will even be projecting a movie on a wall of the Day Room. Who doesn’t love to stay in on a snowy evening and watch a movie?
As much as I love talking about snow (and trust me: I do), I have always been able to choose to come inside when my the tips of my fingers went numb. This is why, I want to share a poem with you by a member of our Overcomer program who has a passion for the written word. David Harlem is very imaginative kindhearted soul. So today, I leave you with a poem about the chill of winter from a formerly homeless and extremely creative individual.
Blue Norther David Harlem
thunders across the prairie
sharp as buffalo hooves;
hard as betrayal.
a defiant head;
tall grass bows
Father North Wind
satisfaction in his grim grey eyes.
has broken its treaty.