There is a young man who comes to DTC. I first met him when Val, after very patiently helping me figure out how NOT to send people back to her for hygiene supplies, handed me a big folded up blanket. "There is someone I want you to meet. He is having a hard time knowing that there are other people here that can help him. I am going to introduce you to him, and you can give him this blanket. "

So I met a man I secretly (and with affection) call Wulfie. Now he seeks me out. One day there were only two of us volunteers in the kitchen and a bunch of guests. We had hot food -- and dishes. I was running the Hobart, and busing tables. For some reason, people were taking multiple coffee cups so we kept running out, and people were stacking up wanting coffee while I was having to run out and bus the tables and get them back to the kitchen -- washed, and back out at the coffee urn. Wulfie stayed with me the entire time standing in the doorway to the kitchen, and hanging next to me while I scurried around getting dishes from the tables where people were sitting -- he was carrying on a conversation with me that I was marginally tracking.

Jess saw the bottleneck and came to the rescue. She jumped in and started helping with the dishes while I got Wulfie introduced to someone, and seated at a table. Jess is DTC's intern. She always has a smile.

I noticed, Wulfie was being called by Rosemary to go downstairs to get his clothing. He was reluctant to leave the upstairs. It was about 11:15. I was worried that we had talked too much today.

We closed up at 11:30, cleaned, and had our debrief. I told Jess I was going to Mass and she said she'd meet me downstairs. I went down to the lobby/narthex and there was Wulfie. He was sitting in a chair dejected. "JB. This place is messed up." I was able to piece together that he had run out of time and Sally and Rosemary made him leave before he could change his clothes. He was very distressed.

I was hot. I was exhausted. I was preoccupied and future-casting to a meeting I needed to be at. A meeting where I was going to make amends to a former colleague. A meeting that I was not excited about -- one that I had been thinking about throughout the night. So. I blew Wulfie off. I said "Wulfie, I am sorry. I can't help you. I am going to Mass." And. I turned away from him.

I was sitting in the pew 5 minutes later when Jess and Wulfie walked in together. They sat in a pew across the aisle and a little bit behind me. I watched Jess sitting very close to this man who has not changed his underwear in a month -- patiently reviewing the book of liturgy with him. He seemed enthralled. He was quiet. Quiet.

When it comes time for the faithful to line up and receive the eucharist from the priest, I sit always sit back down in the pew and meditate. This time, I looked back , curious about what Wulfie would be doing. I watched Jess show him with her hands how to hold them out or to cross them over your chest. I was fascinated. Wulfie chose to cross his arms over his chest -- and he held them there like he was anticipating something big. He followed Jess into the line. She received the wafer. Wulfie stepped up and Father Bob made the sign of the cross in the air over him and said some words.

That image is haunting me. I swear I saw a light around them.

Afterwords, as we were filing out, Wulfie was so excited. His eyes were wide and he said to me -- " I know why you like this. This was very formal. It wasn't commercial." He was glowing. It was a joyous moment. I felt transcended.

Then, we stepped into the lobby and everything went back to normal.

Jess started pulling Wulfie's clothes and blanket out of the waste basket in the lobby. I saw that he had thrown everything away. 'Wulfie! What are you doing? Not the blanket, too!" He said to me " I threw them away because this place made me feel like trash!" Jess and I spent a few minutes imploring him to take the clothes and blanket. I offered to walk with him to the Sisters of the Road where he COULD change into them. "I don't wear clothes from the garbage!!" 'But you put them there, Wulfie -- you won't get any more for 30 days if you leave these!". He shook his head. And then Jess said, " I respect your decision." -- and she walked back inside and closed the door.

I really had to go now or I would be late. Wulfie walked me out of the DTC. We stopped at my car. He told me that I should wash the bird poop off of it. I told him that I would see him next Friday. I got in and drove off to my meeting.

“Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.”



I left Lincoln City Sunday morning around 9 to make it back in time to pray at the site of the murder of Richard thinking about my Bo. I was thinking of him, and about the mothers of Richard, the boy who was stabbed, and Nick, the man who is said to have stabbed him. How are they? I drove without the radio sending prayers to these nameless women -- one with a son who is dead, the other with a son in prison for murder.

I stopped once to pee at the farm-stand with the goats west of Sheridan. There was a couple there looking for strawberries but they hadn't come in yet. I smelled the peonies and looked at the poppies for a few minutes, remembering how Ed was mad that I put poppies on Bo's coffin because he died of an opiate overdose. I decided not to get any flowers for the boys.

Pulled in to downtown and turned on to Burnside just after 11. I drove past the red doors of DTC and saw the "prayers of the faithful" guy come out and take a drink from the water fountain. I was just in time. Mass was over. People were standing around in the the heat looking bleary. I could hear the sounds of the Rose Festival drifting up from the waterfront.

I walked up the sidewalk where people usually are sitting, lined up and waiting for the red doors to open. Everyone was standing today, there were about 60 people milling around, and Frs Bob and Ron were still in their vestments. Steve, the young MIT-grad- Jesuit volunteer was standing there with a red cross on a pole. I noticed Tom, another guy who had been at the poverty retreat. I waved and walked over to him. We hugged. He asked me if I was at Mass. I felt guilty when I said no. And then the guy next to him asked me what parish I was from and I said "none". Then I introduced myself to the man who no one was talking to.

The man said he had just come back to Portland -- traveling from Mexico. He is looking for a place to stay. He had been at mass, and asked me "what is everyone still standing around here for?". I told him that we were going to pray for the boy at the site where he died. A look of distaste crossed his face. "He was a skateboarder. I heard he and his friend ganged up on a homeless man. That man had a knife and stabbed him in self-defense and the police are saying it is murder." I asked him if he wanted to come pray with us anyway. He didn't say anything.

Father Ron announced that we would be obeying all of the jay-walking rules as we walked to the site. The man stayed next to me and we started along. We passed the Sisters of the Road Cafe and a row of people's shopping carts. A few folks joined us. Nobody was saying much. The sun was very bright.

I moved to the front of the line to be close to Fr Ron. He and Steve stopped on the corner of 1st and Couch, just by the Max tracks. We could hear the shrieks from the Ferris wheel and the other sounds of the amusements. We formed a circle around a spot on the ground and Ron motioned us closer. I stepped in about 3 feet from him. Father Ron started very quietly singing "Jesus remember me when you come into your kingdom...." another person joined, and then another, and then I did.... and all of us were singing that Taize over and over for what seemed to be ten minutes as the Max rumbled by. I was glad I was wearing sunglasses.

Fr. Ron then started reading a litany asking God to SAVE us... against hate, addiction, the death penalty .... it went on and on. I noticed that tears were rolling down my cheeks. I could feel them dripping off my chin. Then it was over and he asked us to pray. We prayed to God that we will "never - ever" have to do this again.

Ron asked us to show each other a sign of peace. I turned around and hugged Tom. The man from Mexico hugged me. His eyes were red and sad. I heard a lady say "Happy Pentecost."

I didn't want to leave. I wasn't ready to be alone yet, so I hung back, walking with Fr Ron as we made our way back towards where we came from. I could only really choke out that this was very sad. He nodded. "This is what we do here." Father said.

When I got home, I looked up that passage where the thief asks Jesus to remember him.