Coincidence
or Providence?
Maybe
it is my Christian belief in providence that somehow God acts and speaks
through the confluence of certain events. Or maybe I just want to make sense of
life (and death), to find some order instead of wallowing in randomness. Twin
died on September 27th. St Vincent de Paul died on the same date.
Sarah, one of the matriarchs of Manna House, who died two years ago, was born
on that date. I seek significance and even solace in such providential coincidences
While he was alive, Twin frequented
the St. Vincent de Paul Food Mission located a few blocks from Manna House.
Sarah did too. Every day of the week, the Food Mission offers a meal to about
two hundred people. Folks on the streets call it “The Radio Station” because
for many years the Food Mission was located in an old radio station just down the
street from Sacred Heart Church.
At Manna House, we have sometimes
reflected on the life and work of St. Vincent de Paul. His ministry with the poor
and imprisoned provide a guide for our work. I am sure that Twin and Sarah in
their insistence on attentive service would have resonated with his words, “It is not enough to give soup
and bread. This the rich can do. You are the servant of the poor, always
smiling and good-humored. They are your masters, terribly sensitive and
exacting masters you will see. …It is only for your love alone that the poor
will forgive you the bread you give to them.”
I think Sarah forgave me the socks
and hygiene, the clothing, the showers, and the coffee that I (and many others) gave to her over the
years. I am not so sure
about Twin. I think that uncertainty is why I have found it hard to write about
him since he died. My memory of him is always going to be complicated, just as
my relationship with him was complicated.
Twin was one of the earliest guests
at Manna House. When he initially came to Manna House some ten years ago, he
was strong and somewhat of a bully. He sought to intimidate both other guests
and volunteers. We had a few conflicts along the way. He was asked to leave at
least a couple of times.
He eventually settled into a more
gracious stance. He became particularly noted for his Scrabble playing with
volunteers and guests. At the same time, he remained always willing to seek some bending of
rules and expectations in his favor. Twin was a survivor and he never quite
abandoned his need to hustle and con. Still, he was capable of
generosity, and sought in his Islam to grow in faith and love for others. He
was always a very private person, revealing little about himself or his
history. As his brother told me at the memorial service, “He was hurt bad once
and never really trusted again.” Like I said, complicated.
My last conversation with Twin, he
called and asked me to bring some candy up to him at the hospital. As was
typical, Twin was quite specific in what he wanted. “Bring me some Werther’s
root beer barrels,” he said. It was not the first time he was “terribly
sensitive and exacting.” He was not happy that I would not come right away. I
was busy. I never got him the candy. He left the hospital, spent a few days at
the boardinghouse where he lived, and then went to a different hospital where
he died.
There was another phone call from
him between the time he left one hospital and went to another. He left a
message. He was mad that I had not answered my phone. I was angry at his anger
and did not call him back. I had been down this path with him before, many
times. I thought I would hear from him again. I thought he would call in a few
days with a new request, and this time I would be able to help him, and we
would forget my previous failure.
He died before that happened. Maybe
we both have some unfinished business. For myself, I will ask for the grace of
faith of which St. Vincent de Paul wrote, “you will by the light of faith see that the Son of God, who
willed to be poor, is represented to us by these poor people.” In that faith I
will remember with love Twin, and Sarah. Especially when September 27th
rolls around.
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