Gratitude – Speak Up Magazine

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GRATITUDE
staying thankful despite
homelessness, hardship and heartbreak
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Speak Up Magazine gives a voice
to the streets—it is written by and
about those who have experienced
homelessness and poverty.

It is sold by vulnerably-housed street Matt Shaw Editor In Chief
vendors who become micro-business
owners, develop a passion for inspired MariaArt DirectorValdivieso
entrepreneurship and get back on
their feet financially. PhotographerDeb Shaw

EDITORIAL TEAM
Peggi Knowe, Leora Akbarov,
Harry Griffin, Hayley Pierpont,
Kaitlyn Tokay, Leah Burnett
CELEBRATIONS / NOTES / CORRECTIONS
SPEAK UP MAGAZINE
Congratulations, Hayley Pierpont on graduating from 501 Hawthorne Ln,
Queens University of Charlotte! We are hoping that Charlotte, NC 28204
you’ll stay in the area. 704-980-9885

Thank you, Leora Akbarov, for the cheerful service Speak Up Magazine is a 501(c)3
during your weeklong internship intensive. (Read Leo non-profit and is supported
ra’s essay on page 21.) by donations of readers
such as yourself.
Summer 2013 intern Noah Driver has graduated from
Davidson College AND got married this summer. (Zero To donate, visit speakupmag.org.
credit for any of it goes to us.)
—
COVER CHANGE: For additional information about
This is our second printing of this issue. (We ran the production of this issue,
out of copies of the first one—that’s a good thing!) including design notes,
If you have seen the first edition, you’ll notice printing details, photo and
the covers are different. We updated it to better illustration credits, visit
reflect the theme. speakupmag.org/gratitude.

We’d love to hear your feedback:
SW Street Writer = Has experienced homelessness magazine@speakupmag.org

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THERE’S BEAUTY
EVERYWHERE
by Andrea Hoschek SW

These days I have less to worry about. the state of health I was in. He said that I
Previously I was living in a small cave in a shouldn’t sleep outdoors without a sleeping
mountain. bag, and that valerian would be good for
my wisdom tooth. It grows on the mountain,
The water used to drip on my face, despite the thank God. But how could I afford a sleeping
tarpaulin that I had covering the walls. It was bag, especially a good one? My mother was
one that painters use; I didn’t have the money unemployed too at the time and couldn’t
for anything else. help. An ad in the newspaper and a personal
connection however worked wonders. After
I wasn’t physically fit enough to meet the two years, I finally got a high-quality sleeping
conditions imposed by social service. I bag and a military tent. It was a nomadic
eventually gave up my flat and stopped lifestyle, but it was bearable.
getting social benefits—they had already
been cut anyway. That situation lasted for a I will never forget my first winter in the cave.
long time—much longer than I wanted it to. I tried to tell myself that snowflakes were
I would get up in the morning and go down ‘romantic.’ I covered myself with expensive
the hill. Sometimes I would meet others that fur coats that I got from the collection of old
lived there and we would beg on the bridge. clothes at a local outreach; unfortunately,
They were also homeless and needing money. they never had any sleeping bags. Once at
Well, I never had to beg because I was selling a construction site, I found some thermal
the street paper. Many people helped me with insulating material and I took it to sleep on so
my problems and supported me. Like other that I wouldn’t get sick. “I’ll return it soon,”
homeless people, I was just grateful to have I thought to myself. Because the cave was in
any place to sleep. danger of collapsing—and also because of
the noise—I moved to the other side of the
At the beginning I stayed at a friend’s place. mountain. I was still unable to sleep.
I didn’t have to pay rent. I sold our street
magazine and cooked for him. But I couldn’t Every week, we used to get treated to a free
stand his drinking. concert because we could hear the music from
concerts from the main square in Salzburg.
I enjoyed living surrounded by nature, but I Today, they actually give a cultural pass to
had a hard time sleeping and it that started poor people with free entry to the cinema and
to take its toll. I looked for a doctor nearby other events.
because I wasn’t able to go to the city in

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I like to think back to the beautiful time that which never seems to end. I want to work
I spent in the great outdoors, in touch with again. That’s why I started taking courses at an
nature. Sometimes I even feel like I was living employment services agency.
in luxury because of the beautiful things that I
was given. I am very grateful for the expensive When I’m feeling bad, I go back to the
clothing donations. That’s how I got a camel- mountain to the cave that I decorated with a
hair coat; it was always my dream to own one. mattress, a beautiful Persian carpet and other
I used to wear it when I was sitting outside the bits and bobs that I got from Sam, a painter
cave. friend that also lived on mountain who has
now sadly passed away.
A friend of mine from Upper Austria used to
come and visit me twice a week to bring me Everything is so peaceful and quiet there, just
organic products and arnica tincture. In return, like it used to be. I can pass the day there and
I made him mountain tea on the campfire to feel grateful for everything that nature gave
help with his circulation. Another friend used me. My friend Sam used to say: “I’m not poor,
to bring me a special natural medicine from I’m rich.”
Germany (made from valerian, lemon balm,
hops and St. John’s wort). One time when I
was ill, another cave dweller brought me food
that he got from the monastery. We would
go to the monastery to get food every day
(except Sundays): sandwiches, sometimes
homemade cakes, fruit and always friendly
conversation.

I used to take food from rubbish bins, and in
the tent I would hang kilos of bananas, organic
breads and other groceries for days so the
mice couldn’t reach them. I even covered the
walls with a Persian carpet that I found in a bin.
People throw away the most beautiful things.
When there was enough to eat, I didn’t have a
lot to worry about; but there were times when
I was almost starving and the rubbish bins —
behind the supermarkets were my only rescue. First published in APROPOS MAGAZINE in
Salzburg, Austria
I’ve had my own flat for five years now
Used with permission via the Internationalthanks to “basic income” support from the
Network of Street Papers and Street Newsgovernment. It’s nice but can be stressful
Service | www.insp.ngo
because of the crime in my neighbourhood,

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I AM NEVER
ALONE

by Ray Feagles SW

I am on a journey, but I am never alone.

My best friend walks beside me, and I
do not walk alone.

When I grow weary of the road, I gain
strength from my friend for I am never
alone.

He is an example for me to follow. I
learn from his ways. I am never alone.

His patience has no bounds. His happy
nature gives me reason to smile.

He shows me how to relax. We have a
bond that can only be broken by fate.

His love is unconditional. He truly loves
me more than I love myself.

His name is Sargent Pepper, my four-
footed friend until the end.

With my dog Pepper at my side, I am
never alone.

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BETTER THAN THE
COBBLESTONES
by Mark Gansert SW

The waning moon shines down upon the grey in a shelter requires you track down a “ green
painted concrete sidewalk at my apartment. shirt.” These individuals work for the Miami-
Yes, my apartment. Just weeks ago, I was Dade County Homeless Trust. When you do
sleeping on cobblestones under a drawbridge. track one down, they tell you to call a phone
number every day to see if there is availability.
Recently, the City of Miami was denied their This is the first obfuscation. The number is
request to the Department of Housing and always busy.
Urban Development (HUD) for six million
dollars in homeless assistance. They were Secondly, if perchance you actually speak to
given $200,000 instead. Being homeless the sole individual (whom I shall not name),
in Miami, I can attest that the two-hundred they will tell you to keep calling back every
thousand they were granted was a fair amount day.
for the services they provide.
The second obfuscation…
Being homeless here and desirous of being

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I got into a shelter through my own means
using HUD’s own database of providers. This I took the stability of a shelter stay as a
I’d like to think was the reason [the Homeless blessing that I am very thankful for to obtain
Trust] was denied the money requested. ALL gainful employment and save up enough
of the email addresses listed upon the federal money to leave the shelter. Now I live with
website bounced back as undeliverable. I nine other men in a smallish two-bedroom
then proceeded to contact HUD and explain apartment, itself a violation of HUD’s fair-
that you are told to call a number that is housing policy.
never answered or email a non-existent email
address. So that’s how I came to sit upon a plastic lawn
chair on the grey painted sidewalk outside
They contacted the Homeless Trust for me. my apartment in the waning moonlight. It is a
With fear in their voices, suddenly, that day sight better than the cobblestones under the
I was placed into a bed at the Miami Rescue drawbridge. For that I am grateful.
Mission.

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IT IS HARD TO BE
THANKFUL
by Matthew Hoffman SW

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Being homeless (or as I’d prefer to refer to not come easily and do not come easily.
my own situation, “houseless”), I feel like I’m
given far too much free time and far too little It is hard to be thankful for peanut butter and
actual positive direction in how to utilize it for jelly that comes from funds raised at galas
the benefit of all. featuring lavish beef entrees and free-flowing
wine. It is hard to be thankful about a society
I’m intelligent, I’m capable, and I’m more than that often seems to treat you like a liability or
willing to be of maximum service to everyone a commodity to be exploited. Sometimes the
provided they wish to be of maximum service sheer totality and helplessness of the situation
to me. However, it is my perception that that is can blind oneself to the amount of blessings
not how others instinctively and intuitively view one actually possesses.
me.
Being hungry and alone gives one a true
What I have observed in others is a tendency perspective on how small actions like sharing
to excuse and discount my perspective a meal with others and a simple conversation
and my pain by labeling my behavior. My are blessings. We live in a world that can cause
overabundant and overwhelming love of one to be deprived of these simple joys, so I
others provokes my desire to mutate our world try to be thankful in every moment.
into one where responsible and commendable
behavior is rewarded, and reprehensible and Thankfully, there is a support system in this
harmfully-motivated behavior is disciplined so community for the homeless to rely on.
that that behavior mutates into responsible Whether there are dinner meals provided
and commendable behavior. at the homeless support center on College
Street, Wednesday morning breakfasts at the
It was nine years ago when I first slept on the Presbyterian Church, or this small magazine
street. you happen to be holding in your hand, there
are outlets that provide a “hand up” to those
Sleeping on the street is lonely. Sleeping on who may feel as though we’ve been “held
the street is maddening. Sleeping on the street down.”
changes one’s perspective about how others
are using their own lives, their own potential We can always do more, but these actions of
and their own worthiness to be representatives of faith must always keep being sown.
of our good God’s stewardship.

When I became homeless at twenty nine years
old, I became enraged. I was already brutally
heartbroken. I did not understand how, in an
environment where we possessed so much
materially and purported to have sound morals
that had propelled us to great heights, I had to
suffer so much. Thankfulness and gratitude did

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The subscriptions below CONTINUE that
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One of Speak Up’s active street
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The above, Plus 5 magazines 5 additional magazines are
go to a specific vendor, which produced, multiplying the
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NOW I AM THANKFUL
by Bill McIlmail SW

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When I was living the American Dream, I facilities, that touched me to be grateful.
lost sight of the things I should have been This is opposed to my previous attitude of
thankful for. I neglected to show and voice that complaining if my clothes weren’t folded
gratitude. I had so much to be thankful for that correctly or some such nonsense.
it embarrasses me to think of how ungrateful
I was. I not only didn’t say thank you, I didn’t When I was invited to spend a night in a
feel thank you. friend’s spare room, I was thankful—especially
when I got to take a shower without the
I lost most of what was good in my life through schizophrenic motel shower issues. That
prodigal living and finally divorce. I know what shower was like a taste of Heaven. Previously, I
I have missed, I know what I should have done would complain if I didn’t have the right soap.
differently.
When you start selling your possessions to
I am thankful first to God for bringing me pay for board and your next meal, you tend
back from the edge of nothing. Not only to become very grateful for someone who will
has he rescued me, he has accepted me. In pay pennies for something you treasured as
response to this, I have learned to be thankful worth so much more.
for the smaller blessings as well as the larger
blessings. When you rest your head not knowing when
you might eat again, that sausage biscuit from
When you have less than nothing, you 7-Eleven tastes like filet mignon. Add an egg
can develop an “attitude of gratitude” for and a cup of coffee, and you are grateful for
everything you receive. I was on the edge of the “gourmet” meal.
homelessness after my divorce and during my
transition. Keeping this attitude of gratitude then
becomes a necessary way of life even when
Though I was under a roof, I was without a God and others start bringing you back into
home. So when a friend offered use of laundry abundance.

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JUNKYARD ANGELS
by Dustin LaPres SW

Photos by Debbie Shaw

We were dreamers living under the bridges We were a closely knit group of friends and
and in the train yards of my hometown in dreamers, all bound together by a common
the late 1990’s. I was the youngest member dream: the dream that we could forego the
of a small band of vagabond romantics who meaninglessness of adult responsibilities
had, for various reasons, shrugged off the and live our days out as free rebels. We were
traditional yoke of young adulthood and unburdened with societal convention and
had chosen to live outdoors as sort of self- dedicated to the art of experiencing the
realized urban survivalists and junkyard angel fullness of unfettered existence in the grand
romantics. We held court during the daylight tradition of our homeless literary, musical, and
hours at various locations around our small, artistic heroes. We were young, we were in
northern Michigan town of Traverse City, love with life, and we were completely broke.
drinking and hustling by day and drinking even
harder and singing/playing guitar by night. I can’t speak for the others, but I had

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experienced a somewhat normal upper- alcoholics, addicts, and mentally disturbed—it
middle class upbringing. Although adopted was a veritable junk hotel) his only refuge.
and problematic as a child, one could say
that, for the most part, I had every advantage Dano and I shared countless campsites on
regarding my childhood home and education; and off over the course of the next 15 years
and yet, just beneath the surface, I had always and remain solemn blood brothers to this
experienced something very different. I had day. There were others too. Most of them had
always been wild, rebellious, and discontent met us at some point while we were drinking
with what I perceived as the expectations of and caterwauling under the bridges or in the
regular society—especially my parents. Their rail yards and had fallen in love with us and
lifestyle was something so alien to me in terms our devil-may-care lifestyle, but most of them
of satisfaction, and I was ever the disinterested were part-time hobo’s at best. They came
third person observer in that life. That all and camped for a time, and then they went
changed for me when I left home for the first home to their loving families when it got cold
time and experienced the boundless freedom outside or they became sufficiently homesick
of the street life. It was as if I had been set free or the street life had, for them, lost it’s luster.
from prison for the very first time while yet Dano, Sean, and I, however, we were chronic
completely unaware of the fact that I was ever homeless cats from those days forward.
a prisoner until I finally stepped outside of the
boundaries of that middle-class paradigm of
social control and struck out on my own to live
on the street and explore.

I was in love with it from the very first moment,
as were the others whom I inspired to follow
me. There was my friend Sean, 23, who had
been a waiter at Ponderosa and barely made
enough to live in a motel and eat sparingly.
Shortly after I left home and took to the
street, he followed suit and joined me for an
adventurous two-year journey across America.
Then there was my friend Dano who had
moved here to escape his abusive stepfather
in rural Michigan and had worked various
factory and restaurant jobs, always toiling
so hard to barely subsist on cheap junk food
and booze, drinking and singing his only
form of entertainment, and a room at the
Whiting Hotel (which back in those days was
the final resting place for many of the chronic

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In retrospect, I often wonder if those early Being joined by similar circumstances in
homeless roadtripper years were the greatest our homelessness cultivated a familial love
days of our lives or if the greatest days and bond like something I have seldom
are yet to come. We lived. I mean we truly experienced in “normal” society. We shared
experienced life on a level that I wish everyone the last of what little we had without second
could share because it was more than just a thought. We protected one another. The older
string of drunken street adventures. It was a more experienced taught us survival skills
truly spiritual experience whose lessons have like we were their own children, and in return
made me a better man and have accompanied we loved them with a fierceness and broken-
me throughout the rest of my life. Though hearted compassion that still evokes tears to
we had nothing in any material sense, we this day when I think of them or speak of them.
discovered a vast fortune in the non-material I met men and women whose creative/artistic/
realm. For a few years, the entire North musical talent surpasses that of anything I hear
American continent was our playground, and on the radio or television. I shared campfires
we explored it as daytripping bodhisattvas, and meals with people whose propensity
living and learning, and writing, and loving to love and care for their street brethren
our way collectively across the country and outshines that of many of the churches I have
even into Mexico. We played concerts under entered; whose kindness, compassion, and
bridges—sometimes with audiences of 20-30 generosity shines like a million candlepower
people drinking and singing along. We met compared to what I experience in my daily life
the local homeless people in every town we today.
drifted through, and we broke bread with
them, shared our stories, shared our art, our I also experienced another strange
music, our poetry, and most importantly we phenomenon during those years: I witnessed
shared our hearts—we loved them as our my situation bring out the very best in many of
brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers. the working and average citizens of

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communities I visited. There were so many
wonderful people who had homes and jobs
who ventured out to meet us and hear our
stories, to feed us, buy us a beer, or give us
their spare change. They stopped to tell us
God loved us, to offer us temporary shelter
in their homes, rides to their churches, food
and clothing, even the occasional day’s work.
One time, while drinking on Pacific Beach San
Diego, a local gentlemen came and joined our
campfire. There were about six of us, including
Sean and myself, and, after drinking and
sharing our fire and stories for a few hours, he
told us the least he could do was to rent us a
motel room for the night because it was cold
out! I saw so much of the best in people during
those years. Sometimes I wonder if I ever will
see so much of the divine spark, which is so
fastly fading in these times, with the frequency
and magnitude that I witnessed it in the heart
and spirits of the people I met along the way
during my drifting years.

In the end, I lay back at night and I smile and
sometimes I laugh quietly, and still yet other ways, like dropping off a bag of burgers to a
times I softly weep mourning those angelic homeless person. So why don’t more people
vagabonds whom I met and lost along the way. do it? I also hear the common rationale that
I hear so much talk these days of “Homeless “God loves those who help themselves,”
Blight” and so many tales of misery and and that angers me because it is so blatantly
destitution, and I have no doubt that it is all senseless. Whatever the reason behind their
very real because I too experienced my fair economic situation—whether it be by choice
share of that as well. There are those who or as a result of misfortune and tragedy—is
live on streets because of no choice of there not everyone worthy of being treated with
own and who suffer immensely. It saddens me the same love and compassion, regardless of
because there is so much stigma attached to their financial status? I believe they are; and
homelessness, and so much of it is spawned if you are of a similar mind, then I beseech
from ignorance and misunderstanding. We you to make a conscientious effort to begin
all, as a collective race of human beings, have taking notice of those “Invisible Citizens” living
the ability to love—and thereby change—the everywhere you go all across your country.
experience of another person for the better. They are not a Blight or an eyesore but rather
Even when it is merely in the smallest of a wealth of human value with a heart that

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bleeds just like yours and a story that may it means to have a spirit of humility. Christ
just inspire you more than anything you have spoke highly of the poor—funny thing, him
ever experienced. They are gifted, talented, being homeless and all—he said, “Blessed
beautiful—though often broken. They are are the Poor in Spirit; for theirs is the kingdom
sometimes the most spiritual people on Earth, of Heaven.” If I can leave you with one final
while other times, perhaps more than just thought today, Invisible Citizen and Visible
a little lost and in need of spiritual comfort. Citizen alike, let it be this, the summation
They are gravely misunderstood and tragically of that greatest lesson which I try to live by
underappreciated. The poet Keats wrote, as my guiding principle today: live without
“Beauty is Truth, and Truth is Beauty.” They are expectation, love without condition, and obey
Junkyard Angels, and I believe that they were (your god/spirit/creator) without question.
both. Because if you do, you will shine a light on/into
the hearts and minds of others and illuminate
One of the greatest lessons in my life has the darkness of the night sky, and the butterfly
come as a result of my experience as an effect will carry your lumens into a brighter
alcoholic, an addict, and an invisible citizen. future for all.
That lesson is, and was, the essence of what

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MY GREATEST RESPECT
by Leora Akbarov

This last week, while completing the final beautiful I found the people I met with to
task on a long list of high school graduation be. Ruth’s writing about the exquisiteness of
requirements, I got a small, thirty-hour taste of sunshine and the three beloved stray cats that
what it’s like to work at Speak Up Magazine. she feeds showed more thoughtfulness and
Shortly after I had arrived, I was introduced to appreciation for life than I have in my whole
Ruth, who instantly made an impression on me body. Her love for books and dreams of travel
with her good-natured straightforwardness, conveyed a sense of passion that I rarely see in
bright sense of humor, and enthusiastic people that I speak to on a day-to-day basis.
appreciation of good tacos—a quality that we
happen to share. I was fortunate to be able to Even her commentary on my “boss’s” new
get to know Ruth, as well as handful of others, haircut—about which she said “the last one
through a series of interviews in which I asked was better”—was a refreshing source of
questions ranging anywhere from, “Is pizza honesty in what is becoming an increasingly
better than hot-dogs?” to “Have you ever artificial world. In many ways, life has treated
been homeless?” The answer to the latter was Ruth much worse than it has treated me, but
almost always “yes.” Now, as I try to share how talking about how lucky I am to have received
I feel about this experience, I am conflicted the opportunities that she didn’t would be
about which story I should tell. impertinent of the many wonderful attributes
and strengths that she possesses. Ruth didn’t
My first impulse is to stress how grateful I am. solicit my pity; she earned my greatest respect.
Inevitably, the people that I spoke with have
undergone countless hardships and obstacles The same can be said about each and
throughout their lives—something that I can’t every one of the other men and women
say for myself. Stressing my own gratitude has that I interviewed. As my project comes to
become somewhat of a knee jerk reaction in a close, I walk away with the understanding
moments like these where I suddenly get a that “homeless” is not an identity marker
glimpse of the kind of life that exists beyond synonymous with a handful of negative
the bubble that I grew up in. Yet, while a five- personality traits. Much of society likes
hundred word write-up on all the things I have to pigeonhole everyone who is, or has
to be thankful for might go spectacularly well been, homeless or housing insecure into
with this month’s theme, I don’t think it would one category, often disregarding their
represent what I actually took away from these many talents, beliefs, and personalities as
last seven days. individuals. By doing so, they are ignoring an
abundance of people who, in my experience,
For one, I believe that highlighting my own have as many great qualities as the next
fortunes would undermine how charming and person. Perhaps even more.

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SPEAK UP WRITER/VENDOR AUTHORS AN
ACTIVITY BOOK TO HELP KIDS
GRASP HOMELESSNESS

By Laura Smith for the INSP | insp.ngo

Randy Parcher has been writing about his have experienced homelessness for nearly
experiences of homelessness for Speak Up seven years. During that time the pair lived
since 2014. mostly in a van converted into a makeshift
mobile home, and spent the cold winter
But when he learned in 2014 that more than months sleeping in homeless shelters and
one-fifth of homeless people in shelters across churches around Traverse City, MI.
the U.S. were aged 17 and under, he decided
it was time to target his message to a much Many places illustrated in the book include
younger audience. situations where Randy has found shelter in the
past, such as a car, a cardboard box and a tent.
In January, Randy published a children’s activity
book called “Understanding Homelessness: The initial printing cost for 300 copies was
Where Will Teddy Sleep?” It explains in simple funded through a crowdfunding campaign on
terms that not everyone has the same kind of GoFundMe. The book is currently being sold
home to sleep in. in Horizon Books in Traverse City. It can also be
purchased online at cuddlyvisions.com.
We don’t want to scare kids so it really doesn’t
hit on a lot of stigmas but instead shows those Randy believes teaching young people about
experiencing homelessness that they are not homelessness will help to promote a wider
alone,” Randy explained. understanding, acceptance and compassion
about the issue.
“Understanding Homelessness” is aimed at
children aged seven and under. In 23 pages of His book also contains a two-page story
coloring activities, it takes a teddy bear on a for parents to read to their kids and some
journey to different places where a homeless guidance on how to discuss the issue with
person might sleep. children. Randy’s first tip is for adults to re-
evaluate how they themselves think about
“I used a teddy bear because it’s familiar to homelessness.
children and non-threatening. I think it helps
to show that we’re just normal people,” added Randy shared his book with the students
Randy. at Greenspire School in Traverse City, who
were later inspired to camp out for a night in
The 46-year-old and his partner Laurie Koelsch December to raise awareness of homelessness.

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discussion about cultural and economic
disparities.”

The book has already been a hit with Shaw’s
son Isaac, nine, and daughter Isabel, six. “It
was a really fun, silly book. I think it’s cute and
it’s teaching us about how homeless people
live,” Isaac said.

Randy says street papers like Speak Up are
another valuable tool in raising awareness
about homelessness.

“Not only does it raise an awareness of what
it’s like to be out here on the streets, it also
shows not everyone is going to fall in to those
stereotypes of a homeless person being a
drunk or an addict. You have people who are
out on the street selling these papers as an
actual job, and it’s hard to get a job when you
hit rock bottom.”

In December 2015, Randy and his partner
finally moved into their own two bed
apartment in a low income housing complex in
Traverse City, just in time for Christmas.
He hopes to do more presentations in schools
in the future, and believes that the book could He now has his own room with extra space for
be a helpful resource for teachers and parents. a writing desk and his drawing board.
“It was great being in a place for December,”
Matt Shaw is the co-founder of Speak Up. he said. “It was really different at first. It
As a father of two young children, Matt said echoed every time we talked. It took Laurie a
the book is a useful tool for parents to help a few weeks to get used to me asking ‘are you
younger generation understand the realities of ready to go home?’”
homelessness.
Randy is now working on a sequel to
“I appreciate that the book invites readers Understanding Homelessness, as well as an
to draw their own conclusions,” said Shaw. anthology of all his writing to date. He says he
“Whether at home with parents or in the already has the perfect title – “Echoes from
classroom or at Sunday school, Randy’s book an Asphalt Mattress: Notes and Side-notes on
creates a great opportunity for meaningful Homelessness.”

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It is not happy people who are
thankful. It is thankful people
who are happy. —Unknown Author