Sheltered and Alone
Sometimes, I wonder where all my Christmas joy went.
It slips away from my heart and escapes with my feelings to a remote place called shelter. A place where I lately called home, whether I like it or not.
With a fallen face, I feel the emptiness of the memories of my loved ones.
Where will they be? Do they know I'm here? Will they be looking for me? Or do they not want to hear from me anymore?
The dim lights of the Christmas tree continue to flicker, but my eyes remain fixed in the void, without any thought of where I can take refuge. No happiness. Only empty memories.
Suddenly, my thoughts began to flicker with the rhythm of the lights. I saw the vanished faces of my children. Maybe they don't want to hear about an alcoholic father who ended his life in a shelter.
What a shame to have a father like that.
Then, I thought I heard smiles amid the sadness of the place.
My companions looked like characters straight out of a garbage dump, without a soul on their faces or smiles in their hearts. They’re just puppets manipulated by alcohol and drugs.
Madness had overtaken them in this place. Yet they smiled and talked to themselves incessantly.
I hadn't even noticed that there was music in the place. Volunteers from the Salvation Army performed music and Christmas songs.
But who can enjoy sharing such a time with a flock of strangers?
Then, on the decorated tables, the food began to arrive. Delicious delicacies but I still couldn't react to the fact that we were celebrating Christmas.
Christmas in a place I didn't want to be.
I looked towards the front door as if I sensed someone would come looking for me to get me out of my lousy existence.
But the door remained empty. I had to make do with my misfortune.
In my inattention, someone placed a gift on my table, and without interest, I opened it out of curiosity. What else could you expect than a new pair of socks, a hat for the cold, and warm gloves?
Just a scarf with colors sadder than my own Christmas.
I hope this night passes by like one of many more that mean nothing to me since I fell into deep loneliness on the streets. Since the day I became homeless and no one wanted to know about me.
Is this the end of my destiny, or will there still be more sadness I will have to endure?
I pray to God that no one has to go through this.
I am having to spend this night in a shelter as a homeless person on Christmas Eve.
This piece by
is a remembrance of a previous season. He’s doing better — now out of the shelter and rebuilding his life “from rock bottom.”You can read more of his work at
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