Friday, August 19th, 2016
Burnaby, B.C.
Victor and I
Victor and I took a stroll near the ashram where Chinese and Punjabi farmers
utilize every square inch of deep, dark, rich soil for produce. We had just passed the garden centre, “It’s
About Thyme,” when we heard the squeaking wheels of a grocery cart behind us.
Before turning around to confirm my guess, I thought, “Here comes a homeless person with his
gathered wares. Most likely he or she
has a set-up called home, somewhere tucked
in the bushes.” Lo and behold it was a lost soul of sorts—a
he—and he started talking.
“Are you guys Roman Catholic Priests?”
That was a first for that question. At least, I’m often mistaken for a Buddhist, while fair-skinned Victor could be
confused for a Muslim, with his white garb.
It goes to show that in our society of pluralistic faiths, not everyone
sees the distinctions.
Our newly-made friend, John, looked in fairly-good physical
shape, but you wonder how long before the elements or ‘habits made’ will wear
him down. I’m usually hit by compassion
for people like John. He probably could
do better. Society likely has pushed him to the edge. I do admire the simple life he’s chosen.
In the afternoon, Arlen came to pick me up for a talk at the Ram Mandir.
The topic was more exclusively “Tales from Wonderful Trails.” I inserted Bhagavat philosophy and it was well received by all.
May the Source be with you!
6 km
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