Julie's Story

Some six years ago, Julie found herself spending her nights sleeping in a rather well off neighbourhood in Toronto. No she wasn't originally from the area, but it seemed safe and she had the sense that few people would bother her as she "slept" in a bus shelter on Leslie Street near St. Bonaventure Church. In fact, truth be told - people avoided contact with her because she was home¬less and was a very different type of woman - she had mental health problems. On that night in January 2000, the weather was bitterly cold as she attempted to sleep with her thread-bare blanket and newspapers as her bedding on the bench in the bus shelter. 

Somewhere in the middle of the night, a police car stopped and the police woke Julie. They offered her a ride to a city shelter. She refused and left "her" shelter until the police moved on. Then Julie returned to her familiar surroundings to try to continue her rest. Sometime later, a second police cruiser stopped and this time the constables realized that Julie was indeed needing a safer, warmer place to be taken to; however, these constables took her to a nearby hospital because they feared that she was suffering from exposure to the winter elements. They brought her to the emergency room. She was assessed and eventually admitted to the hospital for what were the last few hours of her life. The attending physician offered a diagnosis that began with hypothermia, malnutrition, and then possible pneumonia, to begin a litany of medical conditions that were this woman's sufferings. Julie's last hours were unlike many of the others that she had called life; they were filled with warmth, care, and the forgotten feeling of the human touch.

Julie never left the hospital, never returned to her beloved bus shelter, and never saw those beautiful houses she only viewed from the exterior. She died much as she had lived most of her adult life, alone and fearful because the world she experienced was one that was harsh, uncaring, and without any meaningful human contact. She was one of our under¬served sisters or brothers who are part of the vast multitude of persons who call our streets, parks, and deserted buildings their place or residence - their home - our invisible poor.

Julie’s unfortunate death gave birth to the creation of St. Clare Inn.