Christmas presents an opportunity to engage the client, because it holds many memories for people and they are more open to help and to talking about their family. They remember past Christmases with their children and their family of origin. For some their most recent Christmas experience involves estrangement from family. Some coped with family difficulty or painful memories by vacationing out of state, others by drowning sorrows through substance use and others by working a job through the day. They anticipate it as a negative event. It’s not a joyous time for people who have lost loved ones or are estranged from family. Some wonder why death has snatched a child, young and full of potential. I think I might also carry ashes with me, if I was in their shoes. The bitterness of unresolved questions after the death one’s mother, kept another from moving beyond grief and anger at God. So Christmas seems a strange mixture of happy memories and grief for some persons who I’ve helped and even for me. I also feel a mix of happiness. I enjoy the anticipation of Christmas but I also grieve for the loss of friends. For Christmas is a time when we tell the people we love how we feel through cards or just a word. But with death, the curtain closes on the scene of a relationship. It’s permanency is something I’m not sure that people ever get used to, much less in myself. I feel as I social worker and as a person I must visit and reflect on the effect of death on myself as well as with other clients. For much more than in my own life, clients face death. Reflection on death in my own life gives me genuine empathy with the client who experiences death in any form. As Christmas draws near those who I celebrated Christmas with in the past move in and out of my memory while I in excitement with my family, and anticipate the precipitation of snow. Then we all sing Frosty the Snowman. The thing I enjoy most about working at non-profits and as a volunteer is the opportunity to help and the hope that comes when we do help.
Homeless who became friends
December 25, 2008“When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares.” – Henri Nouwen
Friends are the most influential people in our lives.
I feel that compassion flows through an understanding of our common plight as humans. When my mind thinks of volunteer service I envision faces of friends, hear laughter, remember games of jenga and playing cards, and hold back tears to remember the funeral of a beloved friend; a person not distinguished by homelessness but as my friend. People, sheltered from the cold and sharing hot bowls of homemade chili and cornbread, telling stories and playing very good games of cards, are the experiences imprinted forever on my memory. I’ve been enriched by relationships with homeless. People with an older perspective showed me the opportunity inherent in youth for choosing the direction of one’s life. The truth expressed through our relationship has yet to be doused by any latter experience and continues to provide wisdom in relationships.
