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Street Tales: Our rejected gifts

“My Grandfather was a different man.” This statement started a story that peaked my interest because I saw the relationship to a lot of people that I know, both at the kitchen and other parts of society as well.
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“My Grandfather was a different man.” This statement started a story that peaked my interest because I saw the relationship to a lot of people that I know, both at the kitchen and other parts of society as well.

“He was a strange man in that he kept many of the gifts that he had received for birthdays, Christmas and Father’s Day; unopened. Whenever he would be given a gift, he would feel it and if it felt like a pouch of tobacco, or perhaps some libation, he would open it. The rest, especially items like clothing or socks were left totally unopened for many years. If questioned, he would proudly point to the unopened gifts which would be piled up and lying on a sideboard.”

No mention was made of the fact that in so doing, this grandfather may have hurt many of the givers; plus, he probably never would find out what the other gifts were. They laid on that sideboard for years.

So, of course this got me to thinking about many people that I know. Not that they had unopened gifts lying about, but I am referring to gifts such as talents and other personal resources. How many people do you know who might have, say, a musical gift like piano or a wind instrument, but never use it; it just doesn’t interest them. You think to yourself that it is such a waste of a gift.

We have one colorful character that is at the kitchen every day. You have in all likelihood seen him as he pedals himself around downtown on his small wheeled bicycle. His seventy-seven year old hair is gray and a bit spikey and he sometimes jerks his head as if shaking something off. Deaf and mute, he does not communicate much with many others; unless they are well acquainted.

He has always come to the kitchen at five in the morning and his is the only bike allowed in an unused hallway, because people always used to steal it, so we let him bring his in. Although he never really did much of anything to help, recent events changed that. We have a lady who helps at the kitchen a lot and she would always encourage Dalyn to give her a hand, especially in carrying supplies up from the basement.

Over the years, we have affectionately called him the ‘inspector’ because he wanders about the kitchen and if he finds something missing or out of place or broken, he is sure to let us know that we need to fix it. Then a few months ago, another person who was always there to make coffee in the mornings was no longer able to come, so much to our surprise, Dalyn jumped right in and started making the coffee and has been doing it ever since.

Although he does have some disability, he has surprised everyone around him by displaying a gift for helping out and doing it extremely well. He is fastidious in detail and does it all in a very clean and exacting way. When he is finished, the coffee station is very clean and tidy before he leaves.

I found that in this case he was not the one to hide his talent or a gift, we were! We never let him express it because we thought him incapable. In this work at the kitchen, I am seeing that happen more and more. Folks we treated as just another addict or street person will all of a sudden show us just how badly we hide not just our own gifts, but theirs as well.

All of sudden, I find that grandfather story I started this article with, to be not so strange after all.

Chris Salomons is the kitchen co-ordinator of Potter’s Hands in Red Deer.