For over 23 consecutive months:

we lived inside a shelter for homeless families

- inside a motel room



Part  One:

Living inside a shelter system with rules and regulations that were unfair and intrusive.



  My family was a challenge that Family Residence had not encountered before in all its fifteen or so years of operation in Scarborough.  Andraggon and I were probably the first husband and wife team of activists that they had ever had to deal with.  At the same time, my husband and I were probably also the first husband and wife team that they had seen inside that shelter, where both spouses behaved and spoke and conducted themselves like we were twins or close friends.  We protected each other, and we stuck together, as a couple; and that was something that they were not use to seeing in any of the relationships between any of the husband and wife of the homeless families, who had come and gone from their emergency shelter system.



Then there was the issue of my identify myself as a God, and a God who was working to bring all beings together, and fighting every system of control and everyone who kept telling me that I could not do it; or who kept trying to find different ways to harass or harm me to try to keep me from moving forward and getting my work done.



This emergency shelter system, and its body of social workers, did not know what to do with a family like my own, or even how to cope with - or rather, to contain a force such as myself.  But they were going to use all their resources to try to force me to behave myself, or even to conform to their rules and regulations while my family lived in their shelter system.  At the same time, they were going to discover that this was one woman: that I was one God who these social workers could not control, and also could not keep from bringing their attention to the different problems that were built into their policies and procedures.



While my family was a client of Family Residence, I was going to fight any problems in that system that I saw harming us in anyway, not just to make life easier for us while we are here, but especially to make sure that all the other families now in the system, and also those who would be in the future – would be able to be treated with the dignity and the respect and the humanity that they each deserve by everyone of the people working in that emergency shelter system.



That was what my life as mother and a wife and an activist was all about. That was what I have been doing since I was a little girl: I was never someone to cause any problem to anyone for any reason.  But I was always someone who saw problems that others were creating or causing to others, and I had become a woman who was a human radar who found any problem that showed its ugly head, and when I did I would follow and confront that problem. That is why my family calls me a “problem finder” who was always ready to spring into action and become a problem solver once I run into that problem – whatever it is or wherever it was coming from.



The policy of random checks, was one of the first issue that I brought up with our worker, Pat, and the supervisor whom we first were working with.  It was a policy which treated families staying in those motel rooms as if they were criminals or people who were doing something wrong, and the social workers were trying to catch them in the act of doing so by dropping in without any notice on them.  Families living in this emergency shelter system were already stripped of most of their self-esteem, and were already feeling like they were failures and losers in Society.



The last thing that these people living in crisis in this shelter system needed was for any of the social workers to police them, like they were unfit parents, or shady families who were up to no good.  The policy of random checks of their rooms intruded on their personal privacy; and reminded them of how powerless and helpless they were at the mercy of the same people, who were hired to help them to keep their dignity and their self-respect while they lived as families without a home or often without a job to help provide for their families.



It was an easy problem to fix, and all it took was a phone call to that family, or even a note placed under their door, to let them know that they were coming by to check their rooms.  Just because a family was homeless, and had to live in an emergency shelter for homeless families, does not mean that they should have their humanity also stripped from them by anyone – especially by the social workers who are supposed to be people who went to school, to get a good education to teach them how to treat these people with dignity and with respect.


A phone call takes only a minute or so, and a note could be left under each family’s door with just a short drive to that motel. Family Residence had no problems dropping off flyers under the doors of families living in this motel, on a regular basis, to inform them about upcoming meetings or playroom activities, for children that were being held in the basement of this motel.



Yet they saw a problem with picking up the phone and informing families living in the motels that they were coming by on a certain day to do room checks.  Even if they were going to make them random room checks, at least all the families living in that motel would be inform and aware that their room might be one of the ones that will be checked on that day or during that week.  This way, these already stressed out families will not have to deal with the added stress of having someone pounding on their door at any time during the day, to demand that they be allowed to come in right then to “check their rooms.”



This random check policy was one that my family had a natural dislike for. This was the biggest concern that we had with every place that we had lived in our years, and it was also the main reason why we fought with just about every landlord we ever had.  We refused to allow anyone to just drop by our home and just push their way inside, saying that they were doing maintenance check, or that they needed to find out if we were taking care of our apartment, or townhouse, or bungalow, in the manner that they expected us to.  That was an invasion of our privacy, and also a violation of our rights as a family to decide when and if other people can enter our home.



That was one of the main reasons we left 22 Driftwood Avenue; it was one of the reasons why we had problems with our landlord at 17 and 19 Murray Road, and also the one at 94 Danforth Avenue.  It was also part of the reason why our relationship with our landlady at 48 Dunmail Drive was strained over the years.  Those landlords came to find out that just because they owned the house or the apartment that we lived in, that it did not give them the right to enter our home at anytime they decided that they wanted to.



For the first 6 months or so that we have lived in this motel I have fought with shelter staff for them to stop using that random policy with my family.  Since the first time that they did that when we lived in room 223, they have done so on three other occasions.  Each time that they did so, I spoke out and spoke up louder and stronger than before.  Each of these other times that they dropped in to check our room, they did so after I had just had a meeting the previous day with Pat, and her supervisor, Sherry.



And they did so in order to show me, that they were not happy with the way in which I criticized them for different kinds of things that some of them were doing, or saying, to try to harm me or upset my family.  They no longer do random room checks of my family’s room, nor do they drop by to do any facility checks.  This is supposed to be a check that is done about four times a year of each room that every homeless family is living inside, in one of the motels that is being used by this shelter system to house them.



Family Residence decided to exempt my family from any more room checks - random or otherwise.  Now, they know that if anyone from there staff, or anyone else knocks on our door, that we will not even bother to answer it, much less to open it.  They know now that they will have to call, and arrange for a time that is suitable for us for them to come by and check our room, or even to speak to us.  I accept the exemption that they have made for my family from this policy.  But I am still disappointed, and saddened, to know that all the other families are still subjected to this random or facility room check policy  - where they are not given any warning or notice by the social workers who drop in on them any time and any day that they see it fit to do so.



 I still remember what one of these social workers stated to me the last time that they dropped in to check our room: “We have been doing these random room checks for many years now, and we never call anyone to let them know that we were coming.”  I also recall the social worker who told me, that they did not have the time to pick up the phone, and call each family in the motel to let them know that they were going to drop by and do room checks.



For this worker, it would take too much time to have the decency to pick up the phone, and let the dozen or so families inside that motel know that someone from Family Residence was going to stop by on a certain day to check their room.  She did not have any excuse for why they could not just print their usual flyers, and have someone come around and pushed them under the door of each family, a week or so before they came by to do their room checks.  The problem with social workers dropping in on families, without given us any previous notice that they were going to do so, was just one of the issues that I have been fighting to have addressed by this shelter’s management. This shelter system is full of red tapes, and a body of social workers who use those red tapes to tie up the lives of the homeless families who are forced to take shelter in their residence.


Part Two:

This motel had a maintenance worker who was perverted in his actions towards myself and our daughter.


My family had good reasons not to trust the motel manager, or one of his maintenance workers. About two months earlier this same maintenance worker, Mohammed, walked into our motel room when daughter was there alone, and he used a key to do so.  Each motel room has two locks on their door.  One is the regular lock that you have to use a key to open the door from the outside, and which we use whenever we come back home and enter our motel room.  The other lock is called a “dead bolt.”  This is the one above the regular one, and also a lock that cannot be opened from the outside by anyone after lock it from inside the room.  It is basically a security lock.



However, the motel manager was able to open that dead bolt lock with a master key, especially in an emergency, or especially if he needed to get a guest out of that room who had overstayed their time, and had not left as yet. However, whenever he had to open that dead bolt lock he was required by law to make sure that he had another person, especially, another staff member, with him when he does enter that room. On this day, however, it was not the motel manager who unlocked that door but his maintenance staff – and he was by himself when he did so.



My husband and I were outraged when we came home later than evening and our daughter told us what had happened to her.  Before we left that morning my husband informed the motel manager that we would be out, and that he should wait until we returned that afternoon to send the window curtain that we needed for this room that we had just moved into.  The curtain that was there was not wide enough to cover the entire window. We did not want people looking into our room as they walked through that parking lot, nor did I want to have my husband been given the opportunity to stare at females who might be walking by our window.



He did not; but for my peace of mind, and his, we both preferred to have a curtain that covered the entire window.  My husband even stopped by that office and personally told that manager not to send anyone to our room while we were away especially because our daughter would be home by herself.  After the abuses she had been put through at the hands of different people, we did not want to have her be subjected to anymore of that kind of abuse while she is inside the place where we call our home, and by herself.



As she informed us, shortly after we left her alone that afternoon, and went out to do some business, Mohammed decided to bring that curtain to our room even though he had also seen my husband and I on our way out. Or rather, the motel manager decided to send him to our room despite our request to him not to do so.  This man came to our door, knocked on our door, and after he did not get a response, decided to use his key to enter our motel room.  The dead bolt was not locked at the time.  Our daughter was watching the dishes at the time, and she was surprised to see the maintenance worker walking into that motel room.  After she recovered her composure, he then proceeded to ask her to hold one end of that curtain so that he can measure it to see if it fits.  She reluctantly agreed to do so, and did.



A short while later, however, he told her that he had forgotten something and that he had to go and come back. Once he had walked out of that motel room, she quickly closed the door and turned the dead bolt lock to keep him from coming back.  When he returned a few minutes later, and found the door was locked he knocked a few times and finally left, when he realized that she was not going to open the door for him.  A short while later the motel manager called our room, and told our daughter that my husband had asked him to change that curtain, and that he wanted to have to done as soon as possible so that he would have it gotten out of the way.  Our daughter told him that we were not home, and that when we returned later on that afternoon that he could call and speak to us then, but that she was not going to let anyone into that room while we away.



When we came home my husband and I were shocked and upset when our daughter told us what the maintenance staff had done to her, and also what the motel manager has said to her when he called afterwards.  We could not believe that someone could just use a key and walk into our motel room while we were away. That was an invasion of privacy, and as far as we were concerned a form of trespassing, whether it was done by the motel manager or by one of his workers.  He had no right to have unlocked our door and just walk in as if there was no one in that room, or as if it was unoccupied. We were also disturbed by the fact that he had unlocked our door and just walked into our motel room while our daughter was alone in that room.  He knew that she was home alone, and he took that opportunity to get into that room so that he can try to find a way to assault or even rape our daughter.



Not only was our daughter a virgin still at age twenty-two but she had no interest in being involved in any way with any man, sexually or even socially.  Though she was now an adult, she was our baby, and the only one of our children that we had still living with us.  She had also been a rock of support for the family since she was a little girl, and when she became aware of what was being done to me by her father, as well as by others outside, she became my biggest cheerleader and number protector. She should not have been violated in this manner.



I called the motel manager the next day and asked him to come and see us as soon as he could because of a problem that we had with one of his workers the previous day. He informed me that he was the only one in the office, and that he would not be able to come to see us until he was able to get someone to cover for. Well, that was not good enough for us.  My husband called him back a short time later, and informed him that he needed to come by and see us as soon as he could.  He also told this man that he believes very strongly that he has someone working for him who is a fits the profile of a pervert who has already raped, or who will rape in the future.



Those were strong words for my husband to use.  He did not have a habit of speaking his mind in such a direct and no nonsense fashion. This time, though, he felt strongly that he needed to do so, and that he was right about the view that he had of this maintenance worker.  Mohammed may have been a Muslim, who prayed five times daily, and also someone who had a wife, and a child on the way, but to my husband, he was a man who made him feel very uncomfortable especially when he came around to our motel room in the past to repair different maintenance problems.  Andraggon pointed out to me on different occasions how it crawled his blood whenever he saw the way that Mohammed would stare and me, especially at my buttocks or our breasts.



He did not like the feeling he got whenever he saw this man as he stood there leering at me for a long time, as if he was in a daze.  My husband said that the way that he looked at me, and for as long as he did, reminded him of a man who had just been released from prisoner after spending most of his life there; or as if he was a rapist who was playing a tape over and over in his head of how he was planning to make me his next rape victim.



During those two days he had helped Mohammed to replace the toilet in the bathroom, he revealed how annoyed and especially disturbed he was by the kind of feelings he got as he watched this man watching me in the disturbing way that he did.  He did not see him as being someone who was just a peeping Tom, who hid and gawked at women from some dark and hidden place, as she is standing or lying in her bedroom. Andraggon thought that he was more perverted than just a peeping Tom who stared at women, and that he seemed to be someone who was ready to do more than just stare.



I knew what he was talking about even before he raised his concerns to me about this man.  From the first time that this man came to help us in our motel room, to do so repairs in both of the two motel rooms we stayed in at first, I did not like this man one bit.  He was creepy, and had an aura about him that told me that he was someone whom it was not safe to be around.  I did not like the way that he looked at me whenever he saw me, in our motel room, going out with my husband, or even coming home.  He was not someone whom I wanted to have around any girl or woman, and the fact that he was someone who was working as a maintenance worker among families living in this motel made me feel very uncomfortable.



The idea of this man having a key that he could use to open any door of any motel room, and to enter that room was one that I found very troubling.  And the fact that he could enter any of these rooms while a woman or even her daughter may be alone in that room was also even more disturbing.  The Gate Way Inn had a number of homeless families living here: at any one time there were at least twenty families here from the shelter program.

 The motel manager came to see us shortly after my husband told him about the need for him to do as soon as possible.  He also brought Mohammed with him.  We explained to him what his worker had done, and why it was wrong for him to have done what he did to our daughter.


Part Three:

The motel manager does damage control and protects the abusive actions of his  creepy maintenance worker.


The motel manager then informed us that he was the one who had instructed Mohammed to come into our room and change that curtain, and that he had done so because he needed the curtain we had asked him to change in order to use it in another room that needed it.  He also pointed out that after Mohammed had knocked and no one answered our door, that he came back to the office, and he then told this worker to use his key to enter our room to exchange that curtain.  Neither my husband nor I were satisfied with that explanation from this motel manager.  He had no right authorizing anyone to come into our motel room while we were away, and he also showed a lack of respect for our expressed wish for him not to do so – particularly after we told him a number of times in the past that we do not want anyone entering our room.



He had also ignored the fact that we had told him we did not want anyone coming and even knocking on our door when our daughter was alone in that room.  We also criticized him for telling our daughter on the telephone, after she had locked the door after Mohammed had left the room to come back later, that my husband had given him permission to send someone to our room while our daughter was there to do any kind of work.



To his credit, the manager did apologize for what had happened.  But then he went on to make the point that the motel manager had the right enter any room that he chose to, and that he had the right to even use a master key to unlock even the dead bolt lock, in order to enter that locked room.  He did point out however, that he had to have someone with him whenever he had to unlock the dead bolt lock, so that if no one was there that he would not be accused of taking anything from that person’s room; or if someone was there like a customer who did not want to leave or pay to stay longer – that he and his worker would be able to deal with that situation much better than just him by himself.



I was really ticked when I heard this motel manager defending the actions of his worker, and also talking about how he had a right to have done what he did.   And I told him so.  I did not care whether he was the owner or manager of this motel. No one was going to be allowed to enter our room whenever or not we were in it.  Even if the police came to our door, which they did a number of months ago, to take Shaka from us, we would not allow them to enter unless we decided to open that door.  The motel manager seemed to have taken our criticism of what he had done fairly well.  He informed us that he had developed a reputation with Family Residence over a decade now, for having a motel that can accommodate customers that were difficult for other motels to handle.  He also made the point that he treated his customers in this motel as he would like to be also be treated if he was the one living here.



I listened to his explanation that afternoon.  He was a respectful motel manager most of the time my husband and I had gone to the office to see him, but he was still like most men I had come across in the manner in which he treated me.  He would not look me in the eye when he spoke to me, and when my husband and I went to this motel lobby to see him for our weekly money, or other things that came up, he usually ignored me.



I don’t care if he was a Muslim, who held the belief that he should not look at another man’s wife, especially when he was with her, or if he was simply a male chauvinist who decided to ignore me to put me in my place. I did not want him to stare or gawk at me like his maintenance worker had done so many times.  I only wanted him to show me the respect that I deserved as a woman, and as a human being, as he usually showed my husband.  If he was courteous enough to greet him by saying hello when we go to see him, then he could offer me that same courtesy and do the same towards me.



This motel manager would also begin to treat my husband, and also my daughter, in the same disrespectful way that he had often treated me all these months after that incident with his maintenance worker.  We informed him since that day that we do not wish to have that maintenance worker come to our door for any reason, after what he had done, and also because we were still very uncomfortable about the manner in which he had behaved towards me over the course of the many months since we have lived in this motel.  He did not like the fact that we were making these demands, and that we were a homeless family living on welfare in his motel.  As far as he was concerned, we had no right to make those kinds of demands, or to criticize his operation as I had especially done a number of times.



 Since that incidence this man began to see my family as a unit whose complains he had to take seriously.  He did not like the fact that he had to deal with a woman who was so outspoken and critical of his operation as I had been.  This was a man came from a Middle Eastern culture where woman were more oppressed than in most parts of the rest of the world that were considered a part of the older cultures.  Having to deal with a woman such as myself was something which he did not want to do, or even knew how to do, but it was something he had to learn to. I was not going to allow anyone to abuse my family anymore and get away with it.



There was no way that we were also going to allow that maintenance worker to get any more opportunity to come around my family again, so my husband and I told the motel manager that we do want to have anything to do with that maintenance staff. We did not trust him, and he had also shown us reasons why we should not.  At first the manager tried to convince me that it was safe for us to deal with this worker, and also tried to force us to continue to have that worker come and repair things in our motel room that needed repairing.  Both my husband and I put our feet down, and made it clear to this manager that we would not work with that man.  There was another maintenance worker, named Rico, who had been hired for about a month or so, and we informed the motel manager that he was the only maintenance worker that we would allow to come into our room to do any kind of work that needed to be done.



There were things that needed to be repaired, especially the cold air that was leaking through our front door; and the countertop was looking more and more disgusting as it continued to get soaked at one end of it.  My husband had asked this manager for the past month or so to have that front door sealed properly, and so far he had not gotten around to sending Rico to fix it.  One day my husband called him again, for the third time that month, and he finally agreed to send someone to fix it.  Andraggon made sure that he reminded him to send Rico and not Mohammed. About fifteen minutes later, there was a knock on our door, and when my husband opened the door - there was Mohammed standing there with a silly look on his face.  He had come to do the repairs.  Andraggon looked at him with surprise, and told him that he had expected Rico to come, and that he had also made that arrangement with the manager earlier.



Mohammed left, and Andraggon called the manager and asked him why he had send Mohammed to our door.  The manager told him that Rico was off sick, and that he did not know when he would be back to work. Andraggon did not buy his explanation, nor did I, but we gave him the benefit of the doubt.  If he said Rico was sick then there was nothing that we could have done about having those repairs done until he came back to work.



The manager had intentionally chose not to tell my husband that he was going to send Mohammed to our door, and he had also deliberately not informed him about Rico’s apparent illness.  We had made it clear to him to make sure that he sends only Rico to work with us.  Yet he chose to ignore our request, and instead tried to force us to work with someone whom we were not comfortable having around us because of what he had one to us in the past.



Part Three:

Reprisals against our family by the management of this motel.


From this point on in our relationship with this motel manager, it seemed that he had decided to show us that he was the one in charge, and that it was his motel, and he was not going to allow any customer to tell him how to run his business – especially a homeless family living on welfare and staying in one of his motel rooms.  As far as he was concerned we had no right to make the kinds of demands that we did, or to question the way that he ran his business.  He wanted to make sure that he got back at us.  However, since he saw that I was someone whose eyes he could not pull the wool over, he tried to hurt us in the same kind of subtle and deceptive manner that a passive abuser does.



When he sent that worker to our door, I gave him a call and let him know that he had no right to have done that, and that I would call the police and file charges against his motel if he tried to do that again.  I also made a call to our worker at Family Residence to let her know what had taken place.  The motel manager was not happy with this god, or rather with this outspoken woman of colour, and he found ways to show me, and the rest of my family exactly what he thought about us.  Andraggon complained to me about how he had started to treat him in a similar manner, in which he had been treating me since we started living in this motel many months ago.  He was now abrupt, and hostile to my husband whenever he went to see him to get our money for the week, and he would also now keep him waiting at different times longer than he should have.



Our daughter was also getting the treatment.  The only time that she would have any contact with anyone in that motel office was whenever she needed to check to see if any mail came for her, from any of the people she corresponded with all over the world as pen pals.  She would call that office, or drop by on her way out, or on her way back home, to find out if they have any mail for her.  She did not like doing so anymore because she felt that the people in the office, including the motel manager, were now treating her coldly and rudely like she had done them something wrong.



Our daughter was an adult, but she felt that she was being treated like a child, and child who was being punished for something her parents did to these people, as far as they saw it.  Because of this mistreatment that she now saw being shown towards her by the motel staff in general, she asked her father to check for her mail for her, which he now does whenever he is able to remember.


The motel manager remained angry towards my family for a while since we had that important meeting with him and his maintenance staff that day.  One day shortly after that meeting, we needed to have the heater in our room fixed because it had stopped working again.  Maintenance had changed that unit shortly after we had moved in when we discovered that it was not working properly.  Now this one was starting to malfunction about four months later. Rico was still not well at the time, and the motel manager had to come personally and check that unit himself.  And he had even brought Mohammed with him, in case that unit had to be replaced. However he asked him to wait outside the room, which we thought was appropriate.



I know that this man did not want to have to go to any motel room and check or even repair anything in those rooms.  That was not his job; but because we would not allow him to have one of his workers do repairs in our room, he had to do it himself since his other maintenance worker was not at work.



When he informed us that there was no one to fix those problems that Rico was not able to fix on that particular day, and that he did not know when:  I contacted someone in management at Family Residence to have them call that motel manager. The following day Rico showed up in front of our motel room to fix the leak in the front door, and the countertop.  He did not repair the countertop, but he did try to level it by putting three flat metal washers underneath the part where it was slanted, which lifted it but did not make it even because water still crawled to that end of the counter – and it continued to make that part of it look bad.



My husband decided to cover that mess with a piece of cardboard that he secured with masking tape.  But a week later he was forced to remove it because it had started to smell really bad.  Next he tried to put a plastic cover from a big container over it, so that he could rest the microwave back onto of it.  That still did not keep the counter from getting soaked; however it kept us from scraping it with the legs of the microwave each time that we had to move it.



Finally, I decided to take matters into my own hand. No, I did not call the motel manager nor did I call anyone at shelter about that countertop.  I bought a roll of plastic wallpaper in a local One Dollar Store, and I pasted it on that entire curtain once it had completely dry.  It was not a permanent solution for a rotting counter top, but it was this best one that I could come up with under the circumstances.  And I did it about seven days before Christmas, which was a sort of Christmas present from me to my family.



The same evening after Rico was sent to do those repairs in our room, I detected a strong smell of gas in our room. We did not have any gas in that room, yet the room was suddenly filled with that odour.  My husband also detected that smell, and he went around the room sniffing like a security guard that he had been for too many years, trying to find out where that gas was coming from.  Our daughter slept through the whole thing, but that smell lasted for hours although it became weaker by the time that we got up the following day.



I did not accept the explanation from Yara or Pat from Family Residence that their own maintenance worker believed that this smell had come from the laundry room that was just below this motel room to the right of us.  That gas smell was deliberately leaked into our room by someone who was working for this motel. I am not going to say who it is, even though I aware of this person’s identity.  But I will say that I am not surprise that this was done to us.  It reminded me of the time that the police officers came and sabotage the valve of our propane tank a few hours before they came and evicted us from that public park.



Human beings have a shameful habit of taking steps to get even with people whom they decide have done them some wrong.  Vengeance is a form of punishment that may bring some feeling of personal satisfaction to people who have been harmed by others, or whose loved ones or friends have been done some injustice to.  But it does not bring any lasting sense of peace or any lasting sense that justice has been done for those victims, or for their loved ones. Getting even or getting back at someone who has harmed you only causes that victim, or apparent victim, to become as brutal and as hateful as the person who has committed those violations against that individual.  It only causes those who are outraged against that wrong, to tap into the same kind of wrong thinking, and the same kind of hostile feelings, that lead that abuser to degrade and dehumanize their victim in the first place.



Vengeance has no place in life anywhere at anytime for any reason by anyone – not for human beings, or any other races of beings; and especially not for beings who are as fully developed spiritually as gods.  It is a lie told by members of the Male Culture through their religious leaders for ages that “vengeance is mine saith the Lord.”  Gods do not seek vengeance of any kind for any reason at any time.  What we live for, and are even willing to die for as mortal beings, is to have all beings live in a world where Justice is the Rule and not the Rule of Law, as Menkind have stated for sometime now.



That motel manager was wrong in his desire and his effort to get even with me especially, for being so outspoken about things that were done, or are being done to my family.  He was not behaving any differently than some of the staff of this shelter had been behaving towards me and my husband.  Or any differently than so many other people who had mistreated me over the years, after I had spoken out against wrongs that they had done to me or my family. I have come to expect to be abused by people whenever I come across their path.



More than any other being living on the face of this Earth, a God stands out like a Lighthouse in a dark world that has little light left in it, and also becomes a target for everyone living in that darkness to step out of the shadow and try to dim the light of that god.  It is for this reason that I have hidden the radiance of the light that radiates brightly from the center of my being since I was a little girl, especially after my Unseen Masters taught me the need, and the benefit, for me to do so for my own personal safety, and for my own peace of mind.



So I was use to being abused, and those years of abuses have caused me to become deeply injured emotionally and severely stressed mentally.  They had not only damaged me as human being, but they had also made me more aware as a god of the same kind of damage that was being done to other mortal beings like myself all over the world. And still is!



That was also at the heart of why I became a woman who had to fight for her very survival. I also became someone who was now even more ready to fight against all injustices that cause so much grief and pain and injury and death to so many people for ages now.  Gods are Champions of Justice by the very nature of the fact: that we devote our entire being to assisting all races of beings in the Cosmos to learn to live by the Law of Universal Justice, so that they can live in lasting peace and in true harmony first with themselves, and then eventually with all other beings living in their world.



For over ten months my family had been living in this motel.  We have endured a lot of mistreatment since we have lived here, and I had spoken out about a number of them to both motel manager, and also to different workers and even the head of the shelter system in Ontario itself.  The holiday season was almost here.  For the third year in a row, my family of now three people, would be celebrating that holiday season without any gifts under our Christmas tree. Actually, we did not even have a tree to put up in this small motel room because our Christmas tree was stashed in a box in storage.



I  was not going to do any kind of decoration this year, which would have been the first time that this would have happened in this family. But I decided to decorate this motel room when I saw how much our daughter was missing the feeling of the spirit of Christmas this year.  It was bad enough that we were homeless, and living in a motel room in an emergency shelter at this time of the year.  So I decorated our motel room, and when I was finished, the change in that room brought a smile to the eyes of not only my daughter but also my husband.



I did not do much, but what I did was enough to lift the spirit of everyone living in this motel room as we prepared to go through the holiday season. My husband and I went to storage and dug up our tiny Christmas tree, along with a few lights and some decorations.  It was only about a foot tall - but to my family it stood ten feet tall after I secured it to a long thin box, which I covered with decorative paper, and a few pieces of strings to keep it from falling over.  Each night we plugged in that little Christmas tree, and it lit up; it also lightened up our burdened hearts and stress filled minds.



We have no presents this year, but my husband and daughter and I take a lot of strength, and comfort, in knowing that we have remained a strong and caring and resilient family in spite of all that has come against us over the years, and even to this day.

Christmas has never meant a time of giving or receiving presents to each other, or even a time of spending time with other family members, for my family.



I have made sure that my small family did receive at least one material gift, especially our children.  My husband did not care about getting any gift of the material kind for Christmas from anyone, just as he did not care about getting any material gift for his birthday, which was the reason why he had tried over the years to hide his birth date from his family.  It was a time of the year where people of the Christian faith celebrated the birth of Jesus The Christ, and shared a spirit of peace and goodwill towards each other; or rather: were expected and encouraged to, by giving gifts and other forms of sharing to their families and friends and even to strangers.   I was a God who was aware that December 25th was not the actual birth date of the carpenter from Nazareth, and that this date was in fact a pagan holiday for thousands of years.



It was the beginning of the Solstice, which meant the start of the days becoming longer for that New Year.  It was also a day that the Catholic Church decided to steal from the pagan people, and use as the most important day to promote the culture of Christianity throughout the largely pagan world at the time.  In this way the Catholic Church could increase its ability to undermine the pagan’s way of life and also to convert these people to its four-century year Old Catholic brand of Christian faith.  It did not matter to this god that the person whom Christmas was named after was born about six years later than most people today believed he was.  Or that he was also someone who had married and fathered children with one of his female disciples, Mary Magdalene.



It did not even concern me that most people in the Western world had this image of Jesus being a Caucasian man with a tan; or that they would not recognize him as he truly appeared back them: as a dark skin African Jew with long brown head of hair that was dread locked – just like Bob Marley’s was for example. These images, and beliefs, that most Westerners hold about the identity, and physical appearance, of the god known to them as Jesus the Christ, were not things that I was concerned about at that time.



What was important for this God, was for my battered and shrunken family, to enjoy the feeling of caring and sharing in a spirit of love and compassion that Christmas had become known for, to the people of the Christian faith living in the Western hemisphere in particular.  That was the kind of thinking, and the way of living, that this god was striving to have all of humanity practice - every minute of every hour of every day throughout every year. And it did not matter what culture or religion or creed or race they were from.