I've got mates everywhere.
Yesterday was one of those days I had a sense of worth. First thing in the morning I had to go to the doctor to get a renewal of my pills. I sat in the waiting room and a guy named John came in. He had visited our drop-in a few times and had come to the Christmas dinner. He immediately started talking with me about ... life. He used to milk cows in the Waikato. Then he worked at concrete placement. At one stage he asked how old I was. All this in a big loud voice, the whole waiting room of people sitting silently trying to ignore one another, could hear our conversation. But my contacts with him had been important to him. Another guy, Robin walked in. I had not seen him for some years so I was unsure if it was him. The doctor called me in, saw to me and as I went back into the waiting room I said to this guy, "You're Robin aren't you?" Robin was the dad of the second family we at Habitat for Humanity partnered with in Dunedin. He greeted me warmly and we caught up till the doctor called him away. I came back to my office in town, did some work then wandered up town to a chemist to deliver a prescription. Ken, who used to be a street sweeper said, "Hi Dave!" and we stopped and talked. John another Drop-in character said hi. Summer a little girl who attends drop-in called out enthusiastically to me. (The lady looking after her looked at me suspiciously) A woman I know serving in a coffee bar noticed me and gave me the thumbs up.This is the way my my trip for half a block down the main street went. Back at the church Tim called in and told me about his holiday trip to Mt Cook. At lunch time, Ray a soccer player called, Shona and Cameron greeted me warmly. ... Mike from the most recent Habitat house called in... It was one of those days when all sorts of people just said "hi", greeted me warmly and seemed happy to see me... I felt less alone and more worthwhile.
Professional Cricketer?
I visited the Willowbank fire station as their chaplain and it was PT time, when the fire fighters can exercise. This crew were playing tip and run cricket. They had opened the back doors of the engine bay... the firetruck was parked out front and had set up a wicket. (I think it is good for a crew to do such things, it bonds them, gives them exercise and helps their sense of worth. Far better than blobbing out in front of TV! ) When I arrived I was told I was fielding. So we played "backyard" cricket. We laughed, we ran, jumped and screamed as we chased this stupid little tennis ball ricocheting around the engine bay, wash area and yard. This old 61 year old was allowed to be a 10 year old again, batting with vigor, bowling competitively and dashing around like a mad thing. At one stage off my bowling a guy hit the ball so that it landed on the roof of the building next to the fire station. ("Six and out!" seems to still be the universal ruling... that was what it was when I was a kid) Without thinking I clambered up a fence, on to the roof to retrieve the ball. Clambering across the roof, I thought, "How silly, we have a fire truck laden with ladders!" but ten year olds don't think like that. As I was climbing down (it was easier going up) I thought, "I am getting paid for doing this! Does that make me a professional cricketer?" The little stiffness and soreness of my muscles today remind me that I am not 10, I am 61... but it was fun.
I lead a most fortunate life!
(An aside... when I first started as chaplain to the fire brigade I visited a station where cricket was being played. The ball, a hard one this time was struck firmly and I crouched confident I could catch the guy out. It went through my grasping hands and hit me on the testicles... as I rolled in agony there was of course much hilarity. I was leaving after visiting another fire station a few days later when the officer winked at me. "Watch out for flying cricket balls won't you?" The story had obviously gone around the grape vine very quickly.)
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