The Arts
The Art Room:
We believe God made us to be in community, and in conversation, with one another. We were made to share life together, and express ourselves creatively. Triune Mercy Center’s Art Room is a positive environment; a safe space where anyone can come create. It is a type of sanctuary where people can find grace, joy, acceptance, and love, just as they are.
Many of the artistic pieces you see within our buildings were created in our Art Room. We hope you’ll consider joining us, as you feel led.
The art room is operated in partnership with Premier Arts Collective (PAC), an experiential nonprofit that uses the arts as a vehicle of healing and hope. In addition to the Art Room, Premier Arts Collective facilitates open-to-the-community music therapy groups on the 1st and 3rd Monday of each month.
PAC seeks to bring others one step closer to hope through their programs locally in Greenville and around the world.
To learn more, visit Premiere Arts Collective.
Art Room Hours:
Wednesday 9 a.m - Noon
Saturday 9 a.m - Noon
The Oasis Writing Group:
The Oasis Writing Group meets every Wednesday in the Memory Garden between the Dining Hall and the Sanctuary at Triune Mercy Center. We are an open community of writers who hope to share our words with others as they share their words with us.
We hope to inspire the world with the heartbeat of a sonnet, the imagination of a story, and the thoughtfulness of an essay. We encourage each other by listening to each other in a world that has a tough time hearing,
and teaching each other the words that are growing in our minds and in our hearts. We believe we can help make the world a better place through building community, writing inspiration, and practicing encouragement. We’d love for you to join our group!
Featured Short Stories:
A Coat of Many Colors - Partnering to House the Unhoused
by Trevor Scott Barton
“…and he had made him a coat of many colors.” (Genesis 37:3)
One of my favorite stories in the Bible is the story about Joseph and his coat of many colors.
I love the song by Dolly Parton, too.
At Triune Mercy Center, we are a coat of many colors. The TMC social workers and case manager, Housing Surge team, Coffee Club, Miracle Hill, Salvation Army, United Housing Connection, United Ministries, Pendleton Place, Greenville Mental Health, and VA work together as partners walking alongside unhoused people to help them find housing. Each one of us is a beautifully colored patch, and when the patches are sewn together, they make a patchwork coat of many colors that keeps people safe and warm. It helps them get housed.
You’ve seen the data of how many people have received housing with the help of TMC and its partners.
Listen to these stories that put a face and a heart on those numbers.
I.
A woman in her fifties was living out on the street with her 27 year old disabled son.
She had serious heart and lung issues and even though she had multiple hospitalizations in the ICU during the past years, she wasn’t receiving disability.
She was out on the street with a “boy friend“ who had been verbally and physically abusive to her.
Because of her breathing and heart issues, she could take only a few steps on a walker without gasping for breath.
She was referred to the Housing Surge team by an outreach worker and was soon afterward placed in a hotel for several days with her son and large dog.
The Housing Surge team located a 2 bedroom apartment for her, her son, and her dog.
Staff worked to secure a housing voucher for her through the Greenville Housing Authority.
We’re helping her and her son with disability applications.
We’ve referred her son to Vocational Rehabilitation.
She’s wearing a coat of many colors.
II.
Here are some unsheltered places where I met with our participants before they got housing:
*A triangular divot in a building wall, right in the heart of downtown Greenville, provided a little overhead shelter and allowed him to be out of the way of foot traffic. If you didn’t know where to look, you wouldn’t see him tucked away in there, one oversized suitcase serving as a camouflage for his concrete bed
*A cardboard shoot carefully tucked between a hedge and a dumpster wall, again, right in the heart of downtown. This one was in a quiet neighborhood and I had to wonder if anybody ever saw her tipping in and out of there under the cover of darkness
*You can’t see it from the road, it’s behind a surviving chimney and through the bushes. You just have to know where to stop and she has to be expecting you for her to come out to talk. It took 4 men to haul her belongings out of that hole on the day we took her to her home
*Right in the middle of a construction zone, there sits a house with the most useful and appreciated carport I’ve ever seen. Between the forgotten refrigerator and the abandoned Volkswagen, there is the perfect space for a stack of blankets on which to rest. This guy leaves wise fox tracks, never takes anyone around his spot and is always seen down the road a piece. “I’ll meet you at the table outside the coffee shop,” he says. “Pick me up at the soup kitchen”
*You can find her under the bridge in the park
*You can find her under the bridge by the train tracks
*He stays around the bus station
*He’ll have his grocery cart
All of these precious people needed a coat of many colors.
Here are some things that struck me:
When I’d take my newly housed participants to the grocery store, they were often stunned and overwhelmed by the choices they could make. A lot of them had SNAP benefits but mostly used them in convenience stores, not full sized grocery stores. They were also shocked by the prices of hamburger meat, chicken, and sandwich fixings.
Many of my folks were struck dumb when we first moved them in. Talkative folks got quiet and, when asked, would report simply being overwhelmed.
“It is a lot to take in,” they’d say. Indeed.
Lots of folks slept and ate and ate and slept for weeks. Then they showed up with plumped cheeks and a new sense of peace in their eyes.
There was one who just quit drinking. After years of being stumbling drunk. I thought it would take a medical detox and a rehab stay to help him recover. He just rested in the safety of his new home and didn’t have to drink again. Amazing.
The homemakers! It’s an honor to be invited into someone’s home. I was surprised by my street hardened participant who decorated with flair, inside and outside his new home. And the woman who color coordinated her whole apartment on $150 voucher to the thrift store! Some folks keep it dark with drawn blinds. Some can hardly be inside without the doors being open, because they are so used to being out of doors. I wish you could see the immaculate cleaning jobs!
All of them are now wearing a coat of many colors.
There are still some hard things to see and hear.
There are participants who won’t sleep in a bed even months after being inside. They still have pallets on the floor.
There is a participant who can’t go into the back of the house because there’s an attic door in the ceiling. Oh, those old haunts.
Sometimes it’s lonely and boring to be inside.
Getting a job isn’t an easy task.
There are so many obstacles: no smartphone, email, or internet. No bus tickets on hand. The physical and mental depletion that have come from surviving outside.
But they’re all facing these hard things in a coat of many colors.
III.
This person was the first referral to the Housing Surge. She was known to many of our staff members and had lived unhoused for the past 3 to 4 years. Nestled in the woods, she and 2 dogs lived in a tent. Our staff was told the dogs were a barrier to shelter and housing. The participant enrolled in the Housing Surge Street to Home component. 2 days post enrollment, she and the 2 dogs were housed together in an apartment.
The Housing Surge was ecstatic over our first participant coming inside with her 2 dogs. Her dogs are thriving. Our staff assisted her in filing for disability to establish an income platform going forward.
She’s wearing a coat of many colors.
Our staff met this person approximately 5-6 years ago before reconnecting with the Housing Surge. He’d been sleeping downtown the past 3 years since his mother died and was unable to keep up with the rent. He slept wherever he could at night. Despite being unhoused, he’d maintained the same job for 10 years at a popular downtown restaurant. Upon reconnecting with him, he told of the loss of his mother, crying openly about the inability to maintain the home. He was proud of his job, but was afraid when he put his head down on the street at night. He was afraid he might be attacked or robbed because he’d been a victim of violence in the past. Now enrolled in the Rapid Exit component of the Housing Surge, he resides in a rental property. He’s always so gracious and appreciative. I’m grateful he allowed us to walk alongside him in his journey off the street.
He’s wearing a coat of many colors.
This couple had been unhoused for over a year. They’d come from out of state hoping to live with a relative here. The plan fell through and they found themselves unhoused. They were unwilling to separate to go into a shelter, which is common for male/female couples. My first memory of them was observing the two of them crammed into a downtown entrance doorway. Both were disheveled, tired and hopeless. They permitted me and other staff members to sit down with them as they told us of their struggles and their dreams. They lacked the necessary documents to get housed. We continued outreach and were able to bring them inside with interim housing while supporting them in obtaining their documents. They enrolled in the Street to Home component of the Housing Surge and now reside in an apartment. They have a voucher to help subsidize their rent. She’s gotten her SSI started back. She recently started paying 30% of her income toward their rent. She’s so proud of herself for being responsible in paying her portion of the rent that she texted her case manager a picture of the money order for the first payment! It’s incredible to watch the transformation when people come inside and have a bit of rest and food.
They’re wearing a coat of many colors.
One participant had a bruise around her left eye due to her male partner striking her on the face and head. The blow subsequently precipitated her going to the ER to receive treatment. The Housing Surge received the referral just prior to that incident. She’d been in the relationship for 3 years, and she described the partner as physically and emotionally abusive throughout their time together. As our staff spoke with her about the Housing Surge, she enrolled in the Rapid Exit component of the program. Our staff talked at length with her about considering leaving Greenville. Initially, she said no to returning home to family in another state. One day, though, she asked if she could call her mother. It was like a light had been turned on in the room. She was smiling from ear to ear, crying and planning. It only took 2 days of planning to get her from Greenville to her home state. The staff saw her off as she left by Greyhound bus. Once she gave us hugs and “thank you’s,” she turned and walked to the bus. She never looked back. What a step of courage for this woman. Her case manager received a text and a photo a couple of days later.
She was at home, wearing a coat of many colors.
And we helped a household of 7 find housing. The Housing Surge initial contact with the mother was by phone. We talked with her about eligibility, circumstances surrounding the family coming to Greenville from out of state, and emergent needs of the family given that the 5 kids ranged in age from 3 weeks old to 9 years old. The family had quickly gone through the funds they had saved. The couple didn’t say it, but I knew they were concerned about the wellbeing of the children. It required patience and trust building on our part. What program moves this quickly getting a household inside?! They finally agreed to meet with the Housing Surge and use funds to temporarily stay in a motel while preparing for the next steps. It was on a late afternoon that we pulled up beside their black and white SUV parked at a fast food restaurant. The mother got out carrying her 3 week old close to her chest and the father shortly thereafter got out of the car. We talked briefly and they agreed the kids would love something to eat. As I reflect on that evening, I can still see the father as he opened the back door of the car and all of the innocent, vulnerable little ones in the back seat. I’ll forever remember the oldest child turning around quickly as I handed them the bags of food. Oh, those beautiful, innocent eyes. After getting the family settled in the motel and driving back to Triune, I found myself wondering, “If his eyes could talk, what would they be saying?” The 2 oldest children were already enrolled in school. Eventually our staff relocated the family to an interim housing situation. The father got employment and our housing navigator found a 4 BR apartment for them. The couple married with the family present. Unfortunately, they had to return to the state they left because of a custody issue. We have been told the family is living with the mother’s father. We always sensed there was a missing piece to their story. We check in with the parents from time to time by text. The father got employment. We hope the best for the family. May they be safe.
Even though they’re in another state, they’re wearing a coat of many colors.
IV.
“We have a bed!” exclaimed the children!
A piece of furniture – a bed.
Used for sleeping and resting – a bed.
Wooden or metal framework with a mattress – a bed.
It was absolutely heartwarming to hear the excitement in their voices and see the amazement on their faces.
For a housed individual, a warm, comfortable bed is a common household furnishing. Something I have taken for granted many times.
Now, the newly housed family of five have warm, comfortable beds.
They are at home.
I am grateful.
Oh, and they have a coat of many colors, too.
We thank God for these precious parishioners. We thank God for you. We’re thankful you’re a part of Triune Mercy Center. We’re glad you’re walking with us and helping us be a coat of many colors for so many people.
May peace and goodness be with you!
by Trevor Scott Barton
“…and he had made him a coat of many colors.” (Genesis 37:3)
One of my favorite stories in the Bible is the story about Joseph and his coat of many colors.
I love the song by Dolly Parton, too.
At Triune Mercy Center, we are a coat of many colors. The TMC social workers and case manager, Housing Surge team, Coffee Club, Miracle Hill, Salvation Army, United Housing Connection, United Ministries, Pendleton Place, Greenville Mental Health, and VA work together as partners walking alongside unhoused people to help them find housing. Each one of us is a beautifully colored patch, and when the patches are sewn together, they make a patchwork coat of many colors that keeps people safe and warm. It helps them get housed.
You’ve seen the data of how many people have received housing with the help of TMC and its partners.
Listen to these stories that put a face and a heart on those numbers.
I.
A woman in her fifties was living out on the street with her 27 year old disabled son.
She had serious heart and lung issues and even though she had multiple hospitalizations in the ICU during the past years, she wasn’t receiving disability.
She was out on the street with a “boy friend“ who had been verbally and physically abusive to her.
Because of her breathing and heart issues, she could take only a few steps on a walker without gasping for breath.
She was referred to the Housing Surge team by an outreach worker and was soon afterward placed in a hotel for several days with her son and large dog.
The Housing Surge team located a 2 bedroom apartment for her, her son, and her dog.
Staff worked to secure a housing voucher for her through the Greenville Housing Authority.
We’re helping her and her son with disability applications.
We’ve referred her son to Vocational Rehabilitation.
She’s wearing a coat of many colors.
II.
Here are some unsheltered places where I met with our participants before they got housing:
*A triangular divot in a building wall, right in the heart of downtown Greenville, provided a little overhead shelter and allowed him to be out of the way of foot traffic. If you didn’t know where to look, you wouldn’t see him tucked away in there, one oversized suitcase serving as a camouflage for his concrete bed
*A cardboard shoot carefully tucked between a hedge and a dumpster wall, again, right in the heart of downtown. This one was in a quiet neighborhood and I had to wonder if anybody ever saw her tipping in and out of there under the cover of darkness
*You can’t see it from the road, it’s behind a surviving chimney and through the bushes. You just have to know where to stop and she has to be expecting you for her to come out to talk. It took 4 men to haul her belongings out of that hole on the day we took her to her home
*Right in the middle of a construction zone, there sits a house with the most useful and appreciated carport I’ve ever seen. Between the forgotten refrigerator and the abandoned Volkswagen, there is the perfect space for a stack of blankets on which to rest. This guy leaves wise fox tracks, never takes anyone around his spot and is always seen down the road a piece. “I’ll meet you at the table outside the coffee shop,” he says. “Pick me up at the soup kitchen”
*You can find her under the bridge in the park
*You can find her under the bridge by the train tracks
*He stays around the bus station
*He’ll have his grocery cart
All of these precious people needed a coat of many colors.
Here are some things that struck me:
When I’d take my newly housed participants to the grocery store, they were often stunned and overwhelmed by the choices they could make. A lot of them had SNAP benefits but mostly used them in convenience stores, not full sized grocery stores. They were also shocked by the prices of hamburger meat, chicken, and sandwich fixings.
Many of my folks were struck dumb when we first moved them in. Talkative folks got quiet and, when asked, would report simply being overwhelmed.
“It is a lot to take in,” they’d say. Indeed.
Lots of folks slept and ate and ate and slept for weeks. Then they showed up with plumped cheeks and a new sense of peace in their eyes.
There was one who just quit drinking. After years of being stumbling drunk. I thought it would take a medical detox and a rehab stay to help him recover. He just rested in the safety of his new home and didn’t have to drink again. Amazing.
The homemakers! It’s an honor to be invited into someone’s home. I was surprised by my street hardened participant who decorated with flair, inside and outside his new home. And the woman who color coordinated her whole apartment on $150 voucher to the thrift store! Some folks keep it dark with drawn blinds. Some can hardly be inside without the doors being open, because they are so used to being out of doors. I wish you could see the immaculate cleaning jobs!
All of them are now wearing a coat of many colors.
There are still some hard things to see and hear.
There are participants who won’t sleep in a bed even months after being inside. They still have pallets on the floor.
There is a participant who can’t go into the back of the house because there’s an attic door in the ceiling. Oh, those old haunts.
Sometimes it’s lonely and boring to be inside.
Getting a job isn’t an easy task.
There are so many obstacles: no smartphone, email, or internet. No bus tickets on hand. The physical and mental depletion that have come from surviving outside.
But they’re all facing these hard things in a coat of many colors.
III.
This person was the first referral to the Housing Surge. She was known to many of our staff members and had lived unhoused for the past 3 to 4 years. Nestled in the woods, she and 2 dogs lived in a tent. Our staff was told the dogs were a barrier to shelter and housing. The participant enrolled in the Housing Surge Street to Home component. 2 days post enrollment, she and the 2 dogs were housed together in an apartment.
The Housing Surge was ecstatic over our first participant coming inside with her 2 dogs. Her dogs are thriving. Our staff assisted her in filing for disability to establish an income platform going forward.
She’s wearing a coat of many colors.
Our staff met this person approximately 5-6 years ago before reconnecting with the Housing Surge. He’d been sleeping downtown the past 3 years since his mother died and was unable to keep up with the rent. He slept wherever he could at night. Despite being unhoused, he’d maintained the same job for 10 years at a popular downtown restaurant. Upon reconnecting with him, he told of the loss of his mother, crying openly about the inability to maintain the home. He was proud of his job, but was afraid when he put his head down on the street at night. He was afraid he might be attacked or robbed because he’d been a victim of violence in the past. Now enrolled in the Rapid Exit component of the Housing Surge, he resides in a rental property. He’s always so gracious and appreciative. I’m grateful he allowed us to walk alongside him in his journey off the street.
He’s wearing a coat of many colors.
This couple had been unhoused for over a year. They’d come from out of state hoping to live with a relative here. The plan fell through and they found themselves unhoused. They were unwilling to separate to go into a shelter, which is common for male/female couples. My first memory of them was observing the two of them crammed into a downtown entrance doorway. Both were disheveled, tired and hopeless. They permitted me and other staff members to sit down with them as they told us of their struggles and their dreams. They lacked the necessary documents to get housed. We continued outreach and were able to bring them inside with interim housing while supporting them in obtaining their documents. They enrolled in the Street to Home component of the Housing Surge and now reside in an apartment. They have a voucher to help subsidize their rent. She’s gotten her SSI started back. She recently started paying 30% of her income toward their rent. She’s so proud of herself for being responsible in paying her portion of the rent that she texted her case manager a picture of the money order for the first payment! It’s incredible to watch the transformation when people come inside and have a bit of rest and food.
They’re wearing a coat of many colors.
One participant had a bruise around her left eye due to her male partner striking her on the face and head. The blow subsequently precipitated her going to the ER to receive treatment. The Housing Surge received the referral just prior to that incident. She’d been in the relationship for 3 years, and she described the partner as physically and emotionally abusive throughout their time together. As our staff spoke with her about the Housing Surge, she enrolled in the Rapid Exit component of the program. Our staff talked at length with her about considering leaving Greenville. Initially, she said no to returning home to family in another state. One day, though, she asked if she could call her mother. It was like a light had been turned on in the room. She was smiling from ear to ear, crying and planning. It only took 2 days of planning to get her from Greenville to her home state. The staff saw her off as she left by Greyhound bus. Once she gave us hugs and “thank you’s,” she turned and walked to the bus. She never looked back. What a step of courage for this woman. Her case manager received a text and a photo a couple of days later.
She was at home, wearing a coat of many colors.
And we helped a household of 7 find housing. The Housing Surge initial contact with the mother was by phone. We talked with her about eligibility, circumstances surrounding the family coming to Greenville from out of state, and emergent needs of the family given that the 5 kids ranged in age from 3 weeks old to 9 years old. The family had quickly gone through the funds they had saved. The couple didn’t say it, but I knew they were concerned about the wellbeing of the children. It required patience and trust building on our part. What program moves this quickly getting a household inside?! They finally agreed to meet with the Housing Surge and use funds to temporarily stay in a motel while preparing for the next steps. It was on a late afternoon that we pulled up beside their black and white SUV parked at a fast food restaurant. The mother got out carrying her 3 week old close to her chest and the father shortly thereafter got out of the car. We talked briefly and they agreed the kids would love something to eat. As I reflect on that evening, I can still see the father as he opened the back door of the car and all of the innocent, vulnerable little ones in the back seat. I’ll forever remember the oldest child turning around quickly as I handed them the bags of food. Oh, those beautiful, innocent eyes. After getting the family settled in the motel and driving back to Triune, I found myself wondering, “If his eyes could talk, what would they be saying?” The 2 oldest children were already enrolled in school. Eventually our staff relocated the family to an interim housing situation. The father got employment and our housing navigator found a 4 BR apartment for them. The couple married with the family present. Unfortunately, they had to return to the state they left because of a custody issue. We have been told the family is living with the mother’s father. We always sensed there was a missing piece to their story. We check in with the parents from time to time by text. The father got employment. We hope the best for the family. May they be safe.
Even though they’re in another state, they’re wearing a coat of many colors.
IV.
“We have a bed!” exclaimed the children!
A piece of furniture – a bed.
Used for sleeping and resting – a bed.
Wooden or metal framework with a mattress – a bed.
It was absolutely heartwarming to hear the excitement in their voices and see the amazement on their faces.
For a housed individual, a warm, comfortable bed is a common household furnishing. Something I have taken for granted many times.
Now, the newly housed family of five have warm, comfortable beds.
They are at home.
I am grateful.
Oh, and they have a coat of many colors, too.
We thank God for these precious parishioners. We thank God for you. We’re thankful you’re a part of Triune Mercy Center. We’re glad you’re walking with us and helping us be a coat of many colors for so many people.
May peace and goodness be with you!
Luna Looks for Home
by Anna Romano
The sun crept up slowly, and its rays poured through the windows. Luna’s head popped up as someone approached the door. The door opened with a whoosh, and out the cat went! The air was cool and crisp against her black fur; the earth shifted softly under her paws. Luna headed for the trees, wondering what might lie hidden within. What treasures would she find in this new realm? Who lived among the greens? Luna picked up the pace and began her exploration.
Not long into her journey, a sunny spot appeared through the brush. Surrounded by trees and strange life, the glittering grass seemed a great place to nap. Luna set her head down for a snooze. The sun crept higher into the sky. Then, the cat suddenly awoke. She looked around, and nothing was in the same place! Panic flew through her skin.
“What to do?! Which way do I go?!” Determined, Luna started looking for her home.
A few paces ahead, Luna spied a willow tree. Its light green leaves almost touched the ground, as they hung from long arching branches. The flexible canopy appeared calm and strong, so she decided to ask for directions.
“Willow Tree, which way is home?” the cat cautiously inquired.
“Hmm…what is this ‘home’ you speak of?” asked the distinguished tree.
“It has a roof, rooms, and walls with cozy windows to look out of.”
“I do not understand what you described,” the willow tree responded. “All I know is this grass here and the stream that runs beside it.”
Luna’s ears leaned back against her head. She looked down at the ground, disheartened. I must find home. She thought. I know nothing else. I can’t live here forever. She picked herself up and scampered off.
Luna frantically searched but remained lost and afraid. Then she heard a sweet singing drifting from above. She spied a Blue Bird guarding his nest in a nearby oak tree. One look at the cat and the bird dashed, assuming it was in danger of becoming Luna’s next snack. But the cat had no interest in the bird; her knotted stomach could not concentrate.
Luna softly spoke, “Oh, mighty Oak, how are you today? Do you happen to know which way is home?”
The massive tree looked down her trunk, and her dark green leaves gave a slight shiver. “What a polite cat! I appreciate your sentiment, but I don’t know how to help with your predicament. What is this ‘home’ you speak of?”
Dismayed, Luna’s green eyes shone bright, and her heart filled up with tears. “Surely with your wisdom, I thought you would know.” She whispered to the tree apologetically. “Home is where my belly remains full and my toys are kept safe. I can sleep reassured that when I wake up, everything is where I left it.”
“That sounds like a miraculous place! I wish it worked like that ‘round here. My leaves fall to the ground, and my acorns are plucked to feed the critters who climb all over me.”
Luna’s head hung low. “So, you can’t tell me the way home?”
“I’m sorry, young kitten, but I have not left this spot for over 100 years.”
Luna left the oak tree in her wake as she sauntered through the woods. With an empty tummy and not enough sleep, she continued on her journey. Suddenly, a beautiful bush burst into sight, its long, thin branches grabbing all attention.
“What’s your name?” asked the cat. Curiosity overpowered her senses.
“They call me Belladonna,” sang the plant, as it showed off its idyllic purple flowers. Her dark berries looked enchanting among the leaves, and Luna’s stomach grumbled.
“Come, eat.” Belladonna offered. The hungry cat began to reach, but then she flinched as something bit her.
“Ow!” She yelled, shocked and confused. A small caterpillar shuffled out from behind her. “Don’t eat those, you stupid cat! Don’t you know why she’s called Deadly Nightshade? Those poison berries will bring about death! Go on, now. Off with you!”
Luna stared hard at the caterpillar, then suddenly blurted, “I’m trying to find home. Can you help me?”
The caterpillar just smirked. “I’m off to molt and prepare for a short slumber. Please do not follow me!”
Luna’s heart sank as the sun started its descent behind the tree line. She staggered forward searching for someone who could help her. Luna came across a dogwood tree with its white blossoms blooming abundantly. A petal wafted toward the ground and brushed against the cat’s ear. Luna felt the dogwood’s strong presence; a delicate strength and sense of resilience emanated from its roots.
“Why so sad, my little friend?” the tree inquired with care.
“I can’t find home. It’s getting late. And I have no idea where I’m going.”
“What is this home you speak of?” the tree asked with honest concern.
The cat responded, her voice trembling, “Home is peaceful, a place of rest and recovery.”
“Well,” said the tree, “I have that here. Why don’t you stay with me?”
“I can’t,” replied Luna. “Home is so much more. And I did not understand until I lost it. Yes, home has a roof, solid walls, and a comfy seat at the window. But it also is safe where no one steals my things, and there’s always food on the table. And home is where I can rest in peace and recover from the frets of the day. Oh! I wish I were home! But I don’t know the way.”
The dogwood smiled at the humbled cat. “Your journey seems to have helped you see that home encompasses many things. I think I know someone who can help you.”
Luna soared into the air, excited and relieved. “Oh, thank you!” she cried, “I promise to never forget how you helped me!”
What the dogwood did next, Luna could never fully describe. A wondrous tone echoed through its leaves, and a rainbow appeared in the sky. The cat spied a small chrysalis settled among the branches. Its hardened curves started to separate as a butterfly struggled to break free. Once unrestricted by the protective chamber, the butterfly spread its bright blue wings. It fluttered a few times in the air before settling in the grass for a conversation with the little black cat.
“I can help you, little Luna. A home should be as you described, comfortable and safe. I hope you realize how fortunate you are to have found such a place.”
“Yes,” the cat solemnly replied, “I will never run away again.”
The blue butterfly led the way. As they walked, Luna studied its wings. She marveled at the complexity. Yet, something familiar also appeared.
“You helped me earlier,” Luna announced, “when I came across Deadly Nightshade. But you’ve changed so much! Why the enormous transformation?”
“We all must grow. It hurts sometimes. But usually, it is worth the pain.”
Luna kept silent the rest of the way, deep in contemplation. And when she saw the front door, she ran ahead, yelling back to the butterfly, “Thank you, my friend. I will never take home for granted again! For home is where I am loved unconditionally.”
Luna did not forget the promise she made to the great dogwood tree. She made a cross out of its bark and wore it around her neck. She looked to the cross to help guide her during any difficult circumstance. And true to her word, the little black cat cherished her home every day after.
by Anna Romano
The sun crept up slowly, and its rays poured through the windows. Luna’s head popped up as someone approached the door. The door opened with a whoosh, and out the cat went! The air was cool and crisp against her black fur; the earth shifted softly under her paws. Luna headed for the trees, wondering what might lie hidden within. What treasures would she find in this new realm? Who lived among the greens? Luna picked up the pace and began her exploration.
Not long into her journey, a sunny spot appeared through the brush. Surrounded by trees and strange life, the glittering grass seemed a great place to nap. Luna set her head down for a snooze. The sun crept higher into the sky. Then, the cat suddenly awoke. She looked around, and nothing was in the same place! Panic flew through her skin.
“What to do?! Which way do I go?!” Determined, Luna started looking for her home.
A few paces ahead, Luna spied a willow tree. Its light green leaves almost touched the ground, as they hung from long arching branches. The flexible canopy appeared calm and strong, so she decided to ask for directions.
“Willow Tree, which way is home?” the cat cautiously inquired.
“Hmm…what is this ‘home’ you speak of?” asked the distinguished tree.
“It has a roof, rooms, and walls with cozy windows to look out of.”
“I do not understand what you described,” the willow tree responded. “All I know is this grass here and the stream that runs beside it.”
Luna’s ears leaned back against her head. She looked down at the ground, disheartened. I must find home. She thought. I know nothing else. I can’t live here forever. She picked herself up and scampered off.
Luna frantically searched but remained lost and afraid. Then she heard a sweet singing drifting from above. She spied a Blue Bird guarding his nest in a nearby oak tree. One look at the cat and the bird dashed, assuming it was in danger of becoming Luna’s next snack. But the cat had no interest in the bird; her knotted stomach could not concentrate.
Luna softly spoke, “Oh, mighty Oak, how are you today? Do you happen to know which way is home?”
The massive tree looked down her trunk, and her dark green leaves gave a slight shiver. “What a polite cat! I appreciate your sentiment, but I don’t know how to help with your predicament. What is this ‘home’ you speak of?”
Dismayed, Luna’s green eyes shone bright, and her heart filled up with tears. “Surely with your wisdom, I thought you would know.” She whispered to the tree apologetically. “Home is where my belly remains full and my toys are kept safe. I can sleep reassured that when I wake up, everything is where I left it.”
“That sounds like a miraculous place! I wish it worked like that ‘round here. My leaves fall to the ground, and my acorns are plucked to feed the critters who climb all over me.”
Luna’s head hung low. “So, you can’t tell me the way home?”
“I’m sorry, young kitten, but I have not left this spot for over 100 years.”
Luna left the oak tree in her wake as she sauntered through the woods. With an empty tummy and not enough sleep, she continued on her journey. Suddenly, a beautiful bush burst into sight, its long, thin branches grabbing all attention.
“What’s your name?” asked the cat. Curiosity overpowered her senses.
“They call me Belladonna,” sang the plant, as it showed off its idyllic purple flowers. Her dark berries looked enchanting among the leaves, and Luna’s stomach grumbled.
“Come, eat.” Belladonna offered. The hungry cat began to reach, but then she flinched as something bit her.
“Ow!” She yelled, shocked and confused. A small caterpillar shuffled out from behind her. “Don’t eat those, you stupid cat! Don’t you know why she’s called Deadly Nightshade? Those poison berries will bring about death! Go on, now. Off with you!”
Luna stared hard at the caterpillar, then suddenly blurted, “I’m trying to find home. Can you help me?”
The caterpillar just smirked. “I’m off to molt and prepare for a short slumber. Please do not follow me!”
Luna’s heart sank as the sun started its descent behind the tree line. She staggered forward searching for someone who could help her. Luna came across a dogwood tree with its white blossoms blooming abundantly. A petal wafted toward the ground and brushed against the cat’s ear. Luna felt the dogwood’s strong presence; a delicate strength and sense of resilience emanated from its roots.
“Why so sad, my little friend?” the tree inquired with care.
“I can’t find home. It’s getting late. And I have no idea where I’m going.”
“What is this home you speak of?” the tree asked with honest concern.
The cat responded, her voice trembling, “Home is peaceful, a place of rest and recovery.”
“Well,” said the tree, “I have that here. Why don’t you stay with me?”
“I can’t,” replied Luna. “Home is so much more. And I did not understand until I lost it. Yes, home has a roof, solid walls, and a comfy seat at the window. But it also is safe where no one steals my things, and there’s always food on the table. And home is where I can rest in peace and recover from the frets of the day. Oh! I wish I were home! But I don’t know the way.”
The dogwood smiled at the humbled cat. “Your journey seems to have helped you see that home encompasses many things. I think I know someone who can help you.”
Luna soared into the air, excited and relieved. “Oh, thank you!” she cried, “I promise to never forget how you helped me!”
What the dogwood did next, Luna could never fully describe. A wondrous tone echoed through its leaves, and a rainbow appeared in the sky. The cat spied a small chrysalis settled among the branches. Its hardened curves started to separate as a butterfly struggled to break free. Once unrestricted by the protective chamber, the butterfly spread its bright blue wings. It fluttered a few times in the air before settling in the grass for a conversation with the little black cat.
“I can help you, little Luna. A home should be as you described, comfortable and safe. I hope you realize how fortunate you are to have found such a place.”
“Yes,” the cat solemnly replied, “I will never run away again.”
The blue butterfly led the way. As they walked, Luna studied its wings. She marveled at the complexity. Yet, something familiar also appeared.
“You helped me earlier,” Luna announced, “when I came across Deadly Nightshade. But you’ve changed so much! Why the enormous transformation?”
“We all must grow. It hurts sometimes. But usually, it is worth the pain.”
Luna kept silent the rest of the way, deep in contemplation. And when she saw the front door, she ran ahead, yelling back to the butterfly, “Thank you, my friend. I will never take home for granted again! For home is where I am loved unconditionally.”
Luna did not forget the promise she made to the great dogwood tree. She made a cross out of its bark and wore it around her neck. She looked to the cross to help guide her during any difficult circumstance. And true to her word, the little black cat cherished her home every day after.
Stories From a Little Brother of Saint Frank, 2025
by Trevor Scott Barton
Brother Juniper woke up in the night with the stirring of the Spirit tugging at his heart.
It was time for Compline.
He walked quietly out of the tiny room where he lived, pulling his holey brown t-shirt over his head, and his tattered khaki shorts around his waist.
Barefooted, he walked through the summer-warmed streets of downtown Greenville until he reached the brick wall between the sidewalk and Triune Mercy Center.
There, he knelt and lifted his voice into the darkness, praying for the tired, the wounded, and the invisible.
His words faltered.
Fear pressed against his ribs like a hand that wouldn’t let go.
Fear for his undocumented neighbors who disappeared in the night.
Fear for those who had no roof.
As he prayed, a figure drew near, sitting beside him on the wall.
The man’s hair was tangled, his beard matted, and his clothes layered with street dust.
His eyes, though, shone as if they carried sunrise inside of them.
“Do not be afraid,” the stranger said, and Juniper felt the words before he understood them.
He turned and whispered, “But I am. How can I not be? The world is breaking apart, and I am small.”
The man smiled, and the smile was both weary and worn, like the smile of someone who had walked far and carried much.
“Do not be afraid,” he repeated.
“Your small prayers join a great river of prayers.
The kingdom is rising, not in halls of power, but in bread broken at shelters, in children laughing despite sirens, in mercy offered where none is expected.”
Juniper’s eyes blurred with tears.
He looked again, and the man seemed both ragged and radiant, cloaked in the shadows of the street yet shimmering with unseen light.
“Gabriel,” Juniper breathed.
The angel only touched his shoulder and said, “Pray, Juniper. Love without fear. The upside down kingdom is already here.”
And in the hush of the night, Juniper kept praying, barefoot on the brick wall, no longer alone.
- trevor scott barton, stories from a little brother of saint frank, 2025
by Trevor Scott Barton
Brother Juniper woke up in the night with the stirring of the Spirit tugging at his heart.
It was time for Compline.
He walked quietly out of the tiny room where he lived, pulling his holey brown t-shirt over his head, and his tattered khaki shorts around his waist.
Barefooted, he walked through the summer-warmed streets of downtown Greenville until he reached the brick wall between the sidewalk and Triune Mercy Center.
There, he knelt and lifted his voice into the darkness, praying for the tired, the wounded, and the invisible.
His words faltered.
Fear pressed against his ribs like a hand that wouldn’t let go.
Fear for his undocumented neighbors who disappeared in the night.
Fear for those who had no roof.
As he prayed, a figure drew near, sitting beside him on the wall.
The man’s hair was tangled, his beard matted, and his clothes layered with street dust.
His eyes, though, shone as if they carried sunrise inside of them.
“Do not be afraid,” the stranger said, and Juniper felt the words before he understood them.
He turned and whispered, “But I am. How can I not be? The world is breaking apart, and I am small.”
The man smiled, and the smile was both weary and worn, like the smile of someone who had walked far and carried much.
“Do not be afraid,” he repeated.
“Your small prayers join a great river of prayers.
The kingdom is rising, not in halls of power, but in bread broken at shelters, in children laughing despite sirens, in mercy offered where none is expected.”
Juniper’s eyes blurred with tears.
He looked again, and the man seemed both ragged and radiant, cloaked in the shadows of the street yet shimmering with unseen light.
“Gabriel,” Juniper breathed.
The angel only touched his shoulder and said, “Pray, Juniper. Love without fear. The upside down kingdom is already here.”
And in the hush of the night, Juniper kept praying, barefoot on the brick wall, no longer alone.
- trevor scott barton, stories from a little brother of saint frank, 2025
Anna's Creed
by Anna Romano
His love binds us, our uniqueness empowered to form community and embolden one another. His grace heals us, A gift, unearned and undeserved, carrying neighbors above the cracks, shining our light upon them. He knows us each by name, living in a broken world wonderfully made by the Master Builder. Remember the beauty surrounding us as we pray, lament, and sing hallelujah!
by Anna Romano
His love binds us, our uniqueness empowered to form community and embolden one another. His grace heals us, A gift, unearned and undeserved, carrying neighbors above the cracks, shining our light upon them. He knows us each by name, living in a broken world wonderfully made by the Master Builder. Remember the beauty surrounding us as we pray, lament, and sing hallelujah!
Darryl’s Poem
by Darryl Jarrett
Sometimes, we as people show our anger in the wrong way. If I close my eyes, take a moment to think, and breathe in and out, then I can calm myself down. I do this because I am stressed over the things of the world - backpacks, having to walk everywhere, nowhere to go, trying to find somewhere just to lay down and relax, trying to find peace of mind. What is normal? Is it working? I’m tired of waking up and doing it all over again. Is living on the street and trying to find my way ever going to change? How can I find one true love who will love me back? How can I find one true love who loves me like God loves me? I have heaven, no matter what. If you are spiritually happy, you can calm down. God sees us and sends a helping hand. Stay strong. Read the road. Just stop and pray.
by Darryl Jarrett
Sometimes, we as people show our anger in the wrong way. If I close my eyes, take a moment to think, and breathe in and out, then I can calm myself down. I do this because I am stressed over the things of the world - backpacks, having to walk everywhere, nowhere to go, trying to find somewhere just to lay down and relax, trying to find peace of mind. What is normal? Is it working? I’m tired of waking up and doing it all over again. Is living on the street and trying to find my way ever going to change? How can I find one true love who will love me back? How can I find one true love who loves me like God loves me? I have heaven, no matter what. If you are spiritually happy, you can calm down. God sees us and sends a helping hand. Stay strong. Read the road. Just stop and pray.
Stories from a Little Brother of Saint Frank
by Trevor Scott Barton
He discovered he had the gift of healing by accident. “I was walking up the sidewalk between Stone Avenue and the mercy center,” he told his friend Saint Frank, “And I saw Alan, all hunched over like a human question mark on the brick wall. I sat down beside him. A tear drop rolled down his cheek and into his grizzled beard. Enough tears’d gathered in his beard to drop, pit pat, pit pat, onto the concrete as if they were rain drops from a Bethlehem cloud falling softly onto the manger of the poor baby Jesus himself. ‘Alan, it’s me, Juniper,’ I said. ‘Can I help you in any way?’ But he was as silent as the deepest part of a night. I reached out my hand and placed it gently on his shoulder and started to whisper a prayer and a blessing into the morning breeze. He hasn’t been able to use his arm and hand on his right side for a long time. He hurt it on the street, and the street is an unforgiving adversary. It hurts you and leaves you wounded so you’ll always remember who’s stronger. The street’s always stronger. At least I thought it was. When I touched his shoulder, my own arm dropped to my side, battered and broken like his, with a pain so sharp I could feel it in my whole body, my whole heart. I balled up into myself and became a human question mark. Alan looked up at me. He reached out to me with his own busted arm and hand, now healed and whole, and placed his hand on my shoulder. ‘Dear God,’ he whispered. And I was healed and whole again. We looked at each other without words. Mystery can only be faced with a reverent silence, right? Cars began to hum on the street and people around us began to move into their own day unaware that a miracle had happened, that I, small, forgotten me, had received the gift of healing and had been healed myself by a small, forgotten, drunken homeless man.”
by Trevor Scott Barton
He discovered he had the gift of healing by accident. “I was walking up the sidewalk between Stone Avenue and the mercy center,” he told his friend Saint Frank, “And I saw Alan, all hunched over like a human question mark on the brick wall. I sat down beside him. A tear drop rolled down his cheek and into his grizzled beard. Enough tears’d gathered in his beard to drop, pit pat, pit pat, onto the concrete as if they were rain drops from a Bethlehem cloud falling softly onto the manger of the poor baby Jesus himself. ‘Alan, it’s me, Juniper,’ I said. ‘Can I help you in any way?’ But he was as silent as the deepest part of a night. I reached out my hand and placed it gently on his shoulder and started to whisper a prayer and a blessing into the morning breeze. He hasn’t been able to use his arm and hand on his right side for a long time. He hurt it on the street, and the street is an unforgiving adversary. It hurts you and leaves you wounded so you’ll always remember who’s stronger. The street’s always stronger. At least I thought it was. When I touched his shoulder, my own arm dropped to my side, battered and broken like his, with a pain so sharp I could feel it in my whole body, my whole heart. I balled up into myself and became a human question mark. Alan looked up at me. He reached out to me with his own busted arm and hand, now healed and whole, and placed his hand on my shoulder. ‘Dear God,’ he whispered. And I was healed and whole again. We looked at each other without words. Mystery can only be faced with a reverent silence, right? Cars began to hum on the street and people around us began to move into their own day unaware that a miracle had happened, that I, small, forgotten me, had received the gift of healing and had been healed myself by a small, forgotten, drunken homeless man.”
