GuelphToday received the following letter to the editor from reader Bill Barrett.
Dear Guelph Today,
The view is almost too ironic, that it is some kind of sick joke. Nestled around the celebratory fountain of “The Family” in St. George’s Square is a settlement of cozy huts. An ersatz European Christmas Market. Each little hut, with power source and shivering vendor, resplendent in seasonal decor. The well-crafted and sturdy wooden structures that could, with a little insulation and a space heater, accommodate a human or two to pass the night from the cold.
A few steps beyond this merchant miracle of Christmas lay the beds, in flimsy tents, of another small settlement. The people inside, chilled and unhoused. They listen to the rustle of shoppers’ feet and their chatter about the perfect gift for the perfect someone.
I need not enumerate the universe of causes that brings a person to the circumstance of being without a home. I need not outline the complexities of sorting out the madness that a country, and a city as privileged as ours, enables these circumstances to seemingly flourish. I can say, the sick juxtaposition of huts for commerce versus huts for people, reveals a fresh canker on the face of our humanity.
Does this mean I think we can’t have nice things? Does it mean we can’t bask in the warmth of the festive season? Can’t we make our community a better place and have fun? Can’t we do both? We can … but we don’t. Our priorities lean to one side.
Our challenge is not new. The old codger, Charles Dickens, a great champion of reinventing Christmas, wrote in Oliver Twist …
“Bleak, dark, and piercing cold, it was a night for the well-housed and fed to draw round the bright fire, and thank God they were at home; and for the homeless starving wretch to lay him down and die. Many hunger-worn outcasts close their eyes in our bare streets at such times, who, let their crimes have been what they may, can hardly open them in a more bitter world.”
How can we retain our dignity, all of our dignity, if we shroud the bitter world with visions of sugar plums?
Bill Barrett
