By Volunteer, Athena D.
Today I experienced my first true connection with a friend from the street — Glen. I’ve talked with him a few times, but this was different. He smiled, engaged, and opened up in a way that felt real and honest. We connected over something deeply personal: sobriety. We shared our struggles, our gratitude, and even exchanged a high-five that cut through the 20-degree air.
Then came the moment I’ll never forget.
Out of nowhere, Glen said, completely matter-of-fact, “I can do a split.” A fellow volunteer, Annie, and I didn’t believe him — a judgment I’m not proud of. Without hesitation, he walked to a patch of snow and slid into a full side split like it was nothing. We burst into laughter and applause. His quiet confidence taught me a lesson right there: people are always more than what we first see.
We talked more — about yoga, sobriety, and even the “mason jar of electrolyte pee” I’d been carrying around since cancer treatment. Somehow he guessed exactly what it was. He just… knew.
And then came the hug.
It was one of those interactions where a wave wasn’t enough. Where a hug felt right — equal, human, grounding. For a moment, the world fell away. No labels. No hierarchy. Just two people surviving life the best they can. It was a real hug — “I see you, I hear you, thank you” kind of hug. When we pulled away, his eyes were watery. Mine weren’t far behind.
Not every Friday looks like this. Some moments are hard — really hard. But people keep coming back. They stay, talk, linger. And days like today remind me exactly why this work matters.
If I ever wonder whether we’re making a difference, I’ll remember Glen.
And this day.
