At the waterfront the water is still and thick as
mercury and tar. Walking here is a repetition of all the previous times I’ve
walked here; in the day time, night time, alone or with somebody. Only this
Saturday I have been given a mission: hunting the homeless. We are a wolf-pack
and we sneak through the streets of Bristol like ghosts, invisible to the
vibrant nightlife; suits and high heels.
Miracles
are about to happen: In the animal world if
one animal spots weakness in another then it kills and eats it, but instead we
squat down in front of them and offer all we’ve got because though they are in a
weak situation, they are not - as individuals - from a weaker or less worthy
species than we are. How could they possibly be?
By
offering blankets, toiletries, hot drinks, soup, rolls, conversation and a Mars
bar, our wolf-pack manages to climb most of the way up Maslow’s hierarchy of
needs.
It takes
very little to make their eyes sparkle with hope and joy. A simple conversation
is sometimes enough. Before the soup run I never appreciated conversation with
other people very much, but now I have realised the importance of socialising
and the poisonous effects of loneliness. I also appreciate my Tuesday morning
cup of tea more and the food I eat – especially Mars bars.
When we
walk out these Saturdays evenings we pour out love in gratitude to all the love
God has graciously poured on all of us. I had a conversation once with a guy
who explained to me the link between a Mars bar and the Holy Trinity – even
though I do not believe the organisers of the soup run thought of this when
they packed the food bags – a Mars bar is three in one: chocolate coating, soft
caramel, nougat, similar to The Holy Trinity: The father, son and holy spirit.
I think of this every time I hand out Mars bars “a little piece of heaven”.
