What are the homeless people fed on the street? Addresses and phone numbers for assisting homeless citizens in cold weather Department of medical assistance

My education is secondary technical, I graduated from vocational school. All his life he worked as a builder, before the collapse of the Soviet Union - in the same office. Then all the enterprises fell apart, and I began to look for work on my own. I went to different cities to earn money, all the time I disappeared somewhere.

Then health began to deteriorate. From heavy physical labor, the joints simply fall apart. It became unbearable to work. Periodically, somewhere else, he was doing some hack-work, trying to deal with the forest, but it didn't work. I just didn't have the strength. And they don't take a disabled person of my age anywhere.

In Moscow, I lived in an apartment with my wife and children. But since I always left for other cities, contact with them was lost. We didn’t fight, we just stopped communicating. My wife, apparently, does not care about me. They say that a woman cannot live without her husband - maybe she already has another man. I do not care. And the kids don't know that I'm homeless. I periodically call them and say that I have left for another city to work. That is lying.

The decision to go outside came by itself. I decided not to interfere with the children anymore and go out into the street. I felt that my family did not need it. And they, probably, did not notice my disappearance and do not realize that I live on the street. I immediately decided that I would never return home. And for three years he never slept in his apartment. There are no friends left either. Someone died, something happened to others. I could not go to anyone. If there were friends, they would help.

The first thing on the street I began to think about where to spend the night and get food. Began to beg, learned to earn money. It turned out that you can earn extra money almost always and everywhere. For example, if you sweep next to the tent, you will get a pretty penny from the seller. Or help someone with the housework. I limp, it is difficult to work with my legs, but what to do?

I spend the night at the Lyublino social center. According to the law, you can only stay there for three nights in a row, but in winter they let you in every night. You sleep there until morning, and then go wherever you want. You need to be outside all day. But we somehow cope. Now I am wearing a real sheepskin coat, they gave it to me. In principle, there are no problems with things - they give a lot. Today they gave me warm trousers - tomorrow I'll wear them. The only problem is that there is nowhere to store things. In the summer you undress and throw away old things.

In winter, it is still cold in any clothes. We go down to warm up in the subway. Sat on the roundabout - and you go yourself. Nobody drives us out of there. But there only until one in the morning you can. We do not go into the entrances - there are people there, but they do not like us. You can stay in the entrances only if you behave in an exemplary manner.

We eat what we have to, almost always dry food. Even if social assistance provides some kind of food, it is cold. You can only eat hot food if the church feeds it or you earn money on it yourself. By the way, they let them into shops without any problems. Why don't they let us in?

The problem is what to store things are nowhere. In the summer you undress
and old things throw it away. In winter
it's cold anyway
in any clothes

Because of this nutrition, the stomach hurts constantly. I don't know what I have there - pancreatitis, cystitis or gastritis. Maybe an ulcer. At the social center we are given pills, but they do not always help. We relieve our needs in blue cabins or toilets at train stations. Not free, of course, but for money. But if it does, we can sit on the street. But, of course, in some not too crowded place. We understand everything, and we are shy.

Because of my stomach, I don't drink alcohol at all. But if I felt normal, I would definitely drink. How not to drink in the cold? Try to walk down the street at minus 10 all day, you will also want to. Therefore, everyone is homeless and drinks. Maybe alcohol warms up for a short time, but how else to keep warm? Moreover, if someone started drinking, he rarely stops until he falls asleep right on the street.

There are no particular problems with hygiene. You can wash at the Kursk railway station, on the Severyanin platform. There, roasting, steaming, you can even walk every day for free. I often go. Don't look that I'm unshaven - I let it go for style. Shaving machines are also available there. And you can get a haircut at the Paveletsky railway station. They train hairdressers and they train on our heads.

I usually spend time with two or three homeless people like me. In a team it is always more fun and easier to get food for yourself. Is there love among the homeless? I guess it's yes. But it's better to ask young people - we are already old, where should we go? And young people under alcohol all fall in love with each other. But in general, there are not very many young people among the homeless. Basically, only visitors who are looking for a job and a happy life. If they do not find it, they join us. I do not understand them. They can achieve everything, but do not want to. They want to drink and indulge. Why are they going this way?

I have a desire to return to normal life, but there is no way. I cannot return to my family. There are such sayings: "You can't glue a broken cup" and "They don't dance back." This is no longer interesting to me. Live with mine - you yourself will understand why interest disappears. Life is such - what we have, what you, young people.

Female

I am homeless for the second time. Alcohol is to blame for everything. The first time I started drinking was when I buried my third husband. I felt sorry for myself, could not understand why I was so unlucky. Gradually she got in touch with the vagrants and went out into the street herself, but quickly returned home. My house is in the Oryol region. But then my mother died. And my father then reproached me that I ate his bread. I freaked out and told him: "I'll leave and find myself a piece of bread."

I went to Livny, this is also in the Oryol region. She lived there in an apartment, everything is fine, although there is no gas or electricity in it. We connected somehow. I contacted drunks again. And then I got tired of it. Among the tramps I met one Skalozub - he had such a nickname, he just got out after a term for murder. He invited me to go to Moscow. And I agreed because, to be honest, I drank it. We arrived in the capital, and then Skalozub immediately left me. But I had a lot of acquaintances here. All are vagabonds, but good people. They say: "Who will offend you - tell me, no one here dares to touch us."

For some time I was homeless and drank in Moscow, and then I got a job in the center for the rehabilitation of alcoholics and drug addicts in Alabino to work in the kitchen. I did well, especially the pancakes and pancakes worked well. The boss always consulted with me what to buy. But some holidays came - and I went to Moscow for the weekend. I met friends and comrades here, money in my pocket - and away we go. I called Alabino and said that I was leaving home. And which "home"? This street is my home. I'm a fool myself. If I hadn't drunk, I would have lived there until now.

How long has it been since I left Alabino? I do not remember. I don’t remember at all. But I almost stopped drinking. Of course, when it's cold, I drink. And when I don’t want to, I don’t drink. I recently stood at the Paveletskaya roundabout. I see two men just shaking. I say, "What do you guys want a hangover for?" - "Why, do you have money?" - "While there is." I took them a bottle. They offered to join. I say: “Leave me alone! Drink, hangover. " I understood their condition. She went through this school. How many people died from such a hangover.

I had money from the collected alms. Women are usually served more than men. Here on him (points to the first interlocutor of The Village), it is not clear that he is limping. Therefore, everyone thinks that, man, he could find a job for himself. And women are more lenient. Therefore, it is easier for us to earn money.

But in general there is no help from anyone, only inquiries. Well, if at least for the night somewhere they accept. But then walk around the city anyway. The food is brought cold. When there is no penny, you can sit for several days without hot food. Buy a pie, huh?

I sleep wherever I have to. You will agree here, then there. Today I spent the night at Domodedovo airport. I paid 17 rubles 50 kopecks to the cashier - and they let me into the waiting room. Completely sober, calm, neatly dressed, I slept there until morning. In the morning I went to the toilet, washed and drove back to the city. I wanted to buy tea at the airport, but it costs 40 rubles there. Who is this for?

I got a scratch on my nose this afternoon. I can hardly walk, I twisted my leg and rubbed myself against the fence. No, fights between homeless people rarely happen. Only if you are drunk and between the young. Why should we, old people, share?

I would give everything, just to return home. I swear I will eat the land - just to leave this damned Moscow. This is some kind of utopia. Whoever gets here will see no good. How many times have I been robbed here. 10 thousand were stolen once, can you imagine? Well at least I left my passport in Oryol.

I have a believing brother, sister, two daughters, a son, three grandchildren there. Father may still be alive. Maybe the son is already married. I have been here for almost five years, everything could have changed there. But I don't know anything about my family. If my relatives knew that I was here, broken, they would have taken me. They may be looking for me, but they cannot find me. I'm here and there. And I myself cannot leave, there is no money. And then there's this drink. That's what is killing me. If only I could get a job in a monastery. I swear I'd quit drinking. I would no longer be drawn to the street. I just want to bow to God. Or the old woman would have accepted some to take care of her. Only there is no Moscow passport and registration. But I can’t do it anymore. Either I'll die here, or somehow.

Illustration: Masha Shishova

Near the Paveletsky railway station, hundreds of so-called homeless people, people who live on the street, huddle in the alleys day and night. With one of them, Nikolai Baluev, we got into conversation. At first, he did not want to answer questions or take pictures. But, having received 200 rubles of "fee", he perked up, and told such a sad story about himself.

Kolya is 30 years old. A year and a half ago, he lived in Yelets and was quite happy. He worked hard at a local mechanical plant as a turner, had a wife and a son. And suddenly there was a reduction at the plant, and Kolya was on the street. I could not find a job in Yelets, so I went to work in Moscow. Here I got a job in a construction company "Grand", received good money, sent money to the family. But one day he managed to get into a sobering-up station. Absenteeism at work, a scandal, and the guy was back on the street. He did not come out of this peak. He began to beg, to drink "muttering". Lived on the street. Last winter I got frostbitten feet. The ambulance took him to the hospital. There his toes were amputated. After the cure, the priest of the local church, who took care of the hospital patients, took Kolya to a shelter for homeless disabled people. There they bought him a ticket to Yelets and sent him home.

- But who needs an unemployed disabled person? - Kolya recalls bitterly. - The wife herself barely makes ends meet. Week tormented with me and kicked out. I went back to the invalid shelter. But I was not accepted there. They said, they say, if there was a Moscow residence permit, then no problem. I found myself on the street again.

Colin's house today is a tram stop near Paveletsky railway station. Here he sleeps. He sits here during the day, waiting for a handout from compassionate passers-by.

“It used to be good,” recalls Kolya. - The bench at the bus stop was wooden, warm. Recently they changed it to metal, and even with holes, apparently, so that people like me would not sit too long. Now it's quite cold at night. Apparently, I won't survive the winter. Well, good. I heard that when they freeze, they experience pleasant sensations. I haven't experienced anything pleasant for a long time ...

Baba Lyuba lives near Kolya under the fence. She built herself a pedestal out of paper trash, on which she sleeps at night and just sits during the day, reading old newspapers, which she pulls out of the collected trash. She did not agree to talk for any money. The housekeeper Valya said:

- Baba Lyuba has been living here since May. Where she is from and who is unknown. Once she was taken by the police to a shelter. But soon Baba Lyuba returned and settled again on a pile of paper trash. Here she has a bedroom, a dining room, and a toilet. We have a lot of them here. Sorry for people. What to do with them?

According to unofficial data, today there are more than 4 million homeless people in Russia, of which 100 thousand are trying to survive in the capital. The state authorities do not keep such statistics, but for some reason they consider these figures to be greatly overestimated. Andrey Pentyukhov, head of the social assistance department for homeless citizens of the Moscow City Social Protection Department, says:

- It is necessary to separate people without a fixed abode, who for one reason or another have lost their homes, and ordinary vagrants. Homeless people who previously lived in Moscow can count on support. We will help to restore documents, temporarily place them in a hotel, provide medical assistance, arrange a disability and a pension, find employment, including the provision of housing. For those who wander around, but at the same time have housing somewhere in the province, we can only buy a train ticket to the house.

For people who have found themselves in a difficult life situation, there are now 8 social hotels in the capital. About a thousand people can be accommodated there. And there are shelters, mainly in remote sleeping areas - Kosino-Ukhtomsky, Lyublino ... Anyone will be left there for one night: they will feed and warm them. But only after providing a certificate of sanitization and medical examination. Doctors receive homeless people in Moscow at the first-aid post on Nizhniy Susalny lane, house 4 in polyclinic No. 7. There is also a sanitary checkpoint nearby (and there are 5 of them in Moscow).

To stay in the shelter longer, you need an extract from the house book, confirming that the person once lived in the capital. Visiting homeless people will not be kept for a long time.

Food for the homeless and vagabonds in the capital is a little easier. To eat for free, you do not need any certificates or documents. You can get a hot lunch at the same sanitary checkpoints and in 16 churches in the capital. Somewhere they feed every day, somewhere twice a week.

If you can't get somewhere by hand, you can spend the night on a special bus. In the cold season, every night the car of the Orthodox charitable organization "Mercy" collects homeless people from the Garden Ring and the square of three stations. The vagabonds on the bus are given food, medical assistance, clean clothes and left to sleep in the cabin.

“One doctor with an ambulance, breathing our bus spirit, fell in the morning with catarrh of the upper respiratory tract,” says the head of the bus service, deacon Oleg Vyshinsky, “and this service employs far from pampered people. Our bus can accommodate about 30 people, and you can call a whole team of doctors to each one.

More than half of homeless people who seek help from "Mercy" are not legally homeless. They have housing and a residence permit, but they do not live there. Someone was kicked out of the house by their relatives, someone lost their job and went to Moscow. More than half of the homeless people in Moscow are visitors from different regions of Russia.

- We do not particularly touch them, - says the police sergeant Anatoly Lobanov. - They do not break the law, what to take from them? The article for vagrancy and begging was canceled long ago. I can only wake up a bum sleeping somewhere on a bench so that he leaves and does not confuse people with his appearance. And in severe frosts we are ordered to call an ambulance for freezing homeless people.

Moscow social services can do nothing to help "bum-limiters". Just feed, give clean clothes and new shoes and send home. Local services should already adapt it to life in society. But there are simply no such people in small Russian cities, just as there is no job or social housing. And the vagabonds return back to Moscow.

Help "SP"

There are only 8 shelters for homeless people in Moscow. But, according to the Tender Beast charity foundation, there are more than a dozen shelters for stray dogs in the capital. Moscow authorities promise to build 15 new shelters for homeless animals in the capital by next spring. Shelters will appear in all districts except the Central one. At the same time, as many as three shelters will be built in the northeast. The largest will be located in the southeastern district. He will be able to simultaneously accept up to 4500 stray animals. All this is good, but you also have to worry about people.

Shelter addresses:

Social hotel "Marfino" (Gostinichny proezd, 8a, the nearest metro station "Vladykino", tel. 482−33−59).

Social hotel "Vostryakovo" (st. Matrosova, 4, passage from the Kiev railway station, tel. 439-16-96).

Center for social adaptation "Lyublino" (st. Ilovaiskaya, 2, passage from the Tekstilshchiki platform, tel. 357-10-65).

Social hotel South-West Administrative District (Novoyasenevsky prospect, 1, building 3, nearest metro station "Teply Stan", tel. 427−95−70)

SZAO night stay house (3rd Silikatny passage, 4, building 1, the nearest metro station "Polezhaevskaya", tel. 191-75-90).

House of night stay "Kosino-Ukhtomsky" (Mikhelson St., 6, passage from the Vykhino platform, tel. 700-52-35).

State institution for foreign citizens with children "Kanatchikovo" (Kanatchikovsky proezd, 7, nearest metro station "Leninsky Prospekt", tel. 952−38−40).

Center for social adaptation "Filimonki" for the disabled, the elderly and persons with minor children (Moscow region, Leninsky district, Filimonki settlement, tel. 777−70−00, ext. 5732).

Where to get sanitized?

Nizhny Susalny lane, 4

Izhora st., 21

Yaroslavl highway, 9

Gilyarovsky, 65, building 3

Kuryanovskiy blvd, 2/24

Like winter - this is how conversations begin: whether to feed the homeless on the street or not. But we'd better tell you about how and from what meals are prepared for them, and how tea is brewed for them.

... By one in the afternoon I arrived at Derbenevskaya Street: here the Christian cultural center "Vstrecha" gave shelter to our volunteer group to help the homeless people of the Danilovtsy movement. I mean, he allocated his kitchen for our needs, where the group coordinator Dima Ivanin and his volunteers every Saturday prepare a hot dinner for our homeless wards from the Paveletsky railway station.

Today Yura is the chef: this is one of the group's traditions, every time someone becomes a chef. He thinks over which products to buy in advance, and commands the process. Today the menu includes chicken soup, vegetable salad and hot tea. The volunteers brought in bags of groceries, the process went on: there is a giant (32 liters) saucepan of water on the stove, volunteers peel onions, carrots and potatoes, cut cucumbers, tomatoes, Chinese cabbage and red bell peppers for salad. There is a general conversation - who's how are you, who went to what movie or what they read recently. Dima turns on the audio lecture "A meeting that can change your life." It is read by the Italian Alessandro Salacone, a representative of the world famous Roman Community of St. Egidius in Moscow. He speaks Russian surprisingly well, his thoughts are simple and unexpected, make him look differently at familiar things.

There are 10 volunteers, they change in the process - someone leaves, they are replaced by others. Half past five, leaving soon: a pack of black tea is poured into a giant old teapot, seasonings, salt and herbs are added to the soup. It smells fragrant, home-like. Salad is packed in plastic containers, and bread, biscuits and sweets are placed in small bags. It all sinks into bags. Yura and Ibrahim pour the soup into three large plastic blue buckets with lids. And now the provisions were taken to the dressing room, we are in outerwear and are ready to move out. Volunteer Sasha came to help in his personal car. I often meet him in our various volunteer groups - in the orphanage for mentally retarded children, and in charitable repairs, and at Christmas and Easter dinners, and he helps to bring something from the Danilovtsev office.

The point where our volunteers meet with homeless people is near the exit from the Paveletskaya metro station on Novokuznetskaya opposite the station. Saturday night, snowflakes spinning in the warm light of the street lamps. Warm, wet snow, ice porridge on the road. Near the point is one of the charges - a large, middle-aged, with a full beard. “It's you, isn't it? Now I will tell our people, they are waiting in the crossing. " Men come up, twos, threes. One, slightly tipsy, gladly starts a dialogue with Ibrahim.

Ibrahim lives not far from here. Once I was walking home, saw us, but did not come up. Then I searched on the Internet who helps the homeless near Paveletsky. Then he went to get acquainted in person. So I got into the group, but it helps not only here.

Homeless Vitalik complains that for the fourth day he has been walking with wet feet, nowhere to dry. I remember about the “House of Friends on the Street”, which opened quite recently. I write their address and phone number, but the snow quickly wets the notebook sheet, blurs the letters. Someone calls Vitalik on his cell phone. This is not a smartphone, its buttons glow with a bright ultramarine. He busily explains something to an invisible interlocutor, says goodbye to him, and then says that he fought in the Donbass, that he came here to work, but something went wrong ... And it's good that at least we come. There are large tears in his eyes.

People come and go, surrounding a folding plastic table. Coordinator Dima Ivanin calls everyone to order, explains the rules. He gives out numbers first to women (“ladies,” as Dima calls them), then to men. Ladies three times less than men. Here is a young brunette clearly drinking. She is nervous, she wants to quickly, quickly. There is a chubby woman in a headscarf, she will take a double portion - later a girl of about nine came to her. There are middle-aged women, there are older and very old women. They are all neatly dressed, many are neat. Seeing them on the street, you would not even think that they are homeless or in great need ... Coming here, most of all I was afraid of the bad smell. But this specific smell - an unwashed body, sewage, sweat, illness, the smell of trouble - is almost not felt, despite the fact that our wards are only one step away from us.

Men are different - many are middle-aged, there are also a couple of young men. Shaggy, bearded. Some men are severely beaten by life on the street - their facial features are rough, swollen from booze, rough hands with bent fingers, with dark nails, they smell of fumes. But there are faces and bright and clear eyes. They walk past us in a row on the other side of the table. And on this side there is a conveyor belt of volunteers: the first one pours the soup into a large plastic glass, Yulia gives the salad, Ibrahim gives a fork, I put a bag of bread and sweets on top. The ward takes the soup in a glass in one hand, and I put the salad with bread in his bag or bag. Rarely does anyone not have a bag or bag. What are the important needs for those shabby bags? They, like us, people, live in the same world with us. But how differently their life is arranged! And what would I put in the bag if I had to live at the train station in winter?

I spent one and a half to two hours on the street. Tights, socks and fur boots did not save me from the cold. Gloves and a hat were completely soaked, a down jacket was worn on top. I went into a warm, bright subway and quickly warmed up. I drove home, hung up my clothes to dry, drank hot tea, and ate a delicious one. I am sitting here at the computer, writing. Then I'll lie down in the bathroom, then - in a warm bed. And I am ashamed that, unlike our charges from the Paveletsky railway station, I am happily relieved of unknown tests of cold, hunger, lack of sleep, illness, humiliation and, God knows, what else ...

Perhaps, I console myself, not all of them are homeless, but simply extremely poor. Perhaps someone has both a bed and a bath, and the ability to dry clothes. But the other part is definitely devoid of this! Deprived of what many of us take for granted. But is there so much personal merit in this comfortable position of ours? And is there so little of a series of good accidents? Vitaly told me: “You see, I would just like to lie down and sleep normally. Just sleep, you know? " And again large tears appeared in his eyes. I nodded. Well, what could I answer him? That I have no idea about the slightest part of the trials that befell him?

Someone thanked us. Few, yes, but warm and sincere. Some simply nodded, while others took in silence and gave way to the next. And some remained dissatisfied - give me some more bread, but not that white one, and then why not candy, no, I don’t need this ... It seems that the attitude towards the world does not depend on social status.

After the meal, distribution of soap, shampoo, disposable razors, warm clothes and socks began. With each new approach to our table, the discipline loosened more and more, and chaos won the order established by Dima in the distribution of socks and things. Homeless people were already not only on the other side of the table, but also on this side, trying to somehow, bypassing their comrades, talk with other volunteers and get what they needed without queuing.

The volunteers froze, behind us is a pile of empty buckets and bags, everything is covered with wet snow, in front of us is an empty plastic table. The wards disperse, one at a time and in companies. Volunteers also gather. It’s half past nine, but this is not the end of a long day: we have to go back and wash the dishes.

We will help homeless people throughout the winter. For your 100 rubles, we can buy 3-4 kg of potatoes and carrots, fresh bread. Donate only 100 rubles to us, and we will buy them socks and help them withstand another day.

Yulia Gusakova, volunteer, coordinator of the educational project "

Once, being in Moscow, I got out of the underpass, which is from the metro station to the Paveletsky railway station. And suddenly I heard loud music. In front of me was a man who looked like a homeless man; in his hands was an antediluvian transistor with a long antenna, and he himself was singing something to this music. And so, overtaking this man, I saw ...

How can I tell you ... If without details - the face is disfigured by a terrible tumor. Half of the face is destroyed. Very scary, very.

The court reporter's composure did not help me, nor could it, since it is my own psychic defensive invention. I had a real - not to say the least - shock. I could not look into that face. I looked at the hand in which I was putting the paper fifty dollars - the hand was dirty, of course, but not terrible. The person expressed satisfaction with the alms received, said something like "Wow, okay!" And I quickly dashed away from him to the station.

Of course, my fifty dollars will not help him, and in general, I am not able to help him practically. But for some reason it seemed to me - if I found the strength in myself calmly, without shuddering, to look into his face, to speak to him, to ask at least what his name is, to promise to pray for him - something so torn in the Universe would grow together ...

I remembered one of the stories about Dr. Haas: he had a patient, a peasant girl, also with a disfigured face with a tumor - even her own mother could not approach this girl, and Dr. Gaaz sat next to her day and night, told her stories and kissed her ... So - until she died.

To help a person, you need to accept him in the situation in which he is, that is, accept his situation - to the end. As long as we push this person away from ourselves, defend ourselves from him, do not accept his situation - whatever this protection of ours is connected with, it is not only about physical ugliness that we can talk about - we will not help this person.

How does a person live, which no one or almost no one can - just look? How did he end up in such a position - probably on the street? .. Maybe his relatives turned away from him, maybe his wife abandoned him like that? Well, I couldn’t stand it ... I don’t know. To assume that "he is to blame for everything" and "the good ones are not abandoned" is the easiest thing for us in such a case.

I turned away ... What if I didn't have the opportunity to turn away? If a person with such a face turned out to be, for example, my compartment neighbor on the train? And if I were some kind of official, and such a disabled person - let not a bum! - would you come to my appointment? .. Let's also take into account the smell ... I remember how one day an elderly and not quite adequate woman with cancer came to our editorial office - we did not know what to do ...

Well, if you can't turn away from this person and run away, I told myself, this means that you have no choice - you have to make a supernormal mental effort, to step over the natural psychological reaction.

What do you mean - no choice? Since childhood, we have been reading books about the war. But hardly any of us today (excluding those who have gone through "hot spots") imagine what it is like to stand up and go on an attack under fire.

We periodically read or hear about someone's courage in a fire - but we, again, with a few exceptions from our number, do not imagine what it is: to stand in front of a burning house in which children are screaming, and to understand that you have there is no choice - if you are human, you have to go there, into smoke and fire. Not "if you are a hero", but simply - if you are a person. There is no choice, because it is impossible and inconceivable not to be human.

It's all scary! This all requires supernatural behavior. Meeting with a sick, severely disfigured person is the same, although it is somewhat different.
Of course, my situation — a runaway, accidental collision in the transition — was a compromise, it was not extreme for me; from a general human point of view, she did not demand anything from me at all. But it was not accidental either, I'm sure of that.

The Lord showed me that I too - as from any other person - may one day be required more; that I too might have to do something supernatural, something so easy to read about - and so incredibly difficult to do in reality. Difficult, and yet absolutely necessary ...

On the splash screen: photo fragment