names.

my hasty footsteps cross paths with his. he smiles. and joyfully shouts out. abigail or abby? do you go by abigail or abby?

i slow down my hurried feet. and pause in the middle of the vacant street. either one. i'll answer to either one. you've got a good memory, you know.

i always remember names. went into the hospital the other day. said hello to doctor so and so. and he was surprised i remembered his name. from when i went to see him four years ago. yep. i remember names.

well i'm not always as good with names as you are. and i'm sorry but i've forgotten yours.

well its written on one of your cards up there at the food bank.

hmm. yes. but i've still forgotten. and i'm sorry.

its robert. most people call me robert. except this one lady who calls me stanley. that's my middle name. she says i look like a stanley.

robert. i'll try to remember that now.

a few more words exchanged. laughter. smiles. and our paths part ways.

and i found the folder of papers from the shelter this past winter. forms and signatures and lists of names. of people that needed a safe place to stay. of people that told their stories over cup-o-noodles and hot cocoa and went back out into the cold the next morning. of people that we can add into numbers. to say how many guests came. to put in our brochure.

and i have to start making case files with notes. about children. and families. about successes and struggles. about progress. and setbacks. and keep them in a special file drawer. except i don't even get to use names. just initials.

and i sit in a class. where we talk about people far away. people whose daily lives know tension. and fear. and violence. and war. and there's a picture of children. growing up amidst it all. and those children have names. and there's a picture of soliders on the other side. living amidst it all. and those soldiers have names. and they remind us of the humanity of it all. of these issues that we comfortably sit around talking about. drinking our decaf coffee. munching our organic fig bars.

names. records of names. food bank cards. shelter rosters. case files. newspapers. and so many unnamed. each a person. a life. a story. oh that we may come to love each other. to honour each other. to truly see each other. for who we are. for the depth that we are. beyond these flat records of names.