December 24, 2007 

Outside of tonight’s romps through the backyards of some of my friends with small children, ending at my home (where – sigh – for the first time this year both my children know it’s daddy) there have been 13 Santa visits in mid-December. I have been doing the Santa thing for a decade at hospitals, hospices and special-needs group homes. There were 4 stops yesterday on the “Santa tour” between Toronto and Ottawa. One was an afternoon stop, St. Nicking on a hospital floor for terminally ill children – keeping all of my self-imposed rules… there are many. Here are the top 3:

Rule #1 – I never ask for details of any illness. Often I am told by a parent, nurse or doctor, and most often by the children themselves – but I never initiate an inquiry. While in every other situation in life I believe that information is power (while I hate that statement, I like the ‘helpful’ side of what it can mean)… there is nothing this Santa needs less than more information. The situations tell as much of the story as I can bear and still fulfill the role I am there for.

Rule #2 – Never look at the parents while talking with their child. A simple greeting on the way in, with as little eye contact as possible will do. The parents are always in tears, and Santa has to bring the distraction of a bit of cheer. And if this Santa even peeks at a parent who is anticipating this to be their precious child’s final Christmas – well, all bets are off. Complete loss of composure. And truly, nothing would be a greater rip off to one of these kids than a sobbing Santa.

Rule #3 – No matter what, make no promises. Far worse than a weeping Santa would be a lying Santa. Santa is a wonderful man with a bit of happy magic. He is not a magic man with a bit of humanity. Too many children have asked me, well, Santa, to make them all better.

And so I did what I do: pray silently and desperately in the hallway as the nurse tells the kids in the room “we have a special visitor,” enter gently and move through the room slowly, with time for soft talk and a pre-arranged gift for each child. (Indoor Santa has a much softer touch than the romping, silly backyard Santa my own kids and those of friends have known over the years). And always, without staff, parents or children recognizing it, before I move on to the next, I touch the child’s face and say a silent 2 second prayer. Always the same one. Always, “God, hold this child today.”

Emotionally, the 20 minutes feel like 20 days by the time I turn, wave and ho-ho-ho back into the hallway. Santa’s last giggle as he exits always has the warble of just barely making it out of the room without losing it.

But today there was an extra gift in store. Not from Santa, for Santa.

A little girl saw me from the end of the hallway. A healthy 7 or 8 year-old in a Candy Cane Christmas dress. She ran to me, grabbed my hand and began tugging me back toward where she had come from, “C’mon, c’mon, see my little brother, c’mon.” Her name was Ella.

By the time we had reached the end of the hallway, mommy, daddy and 2 medical staff had appeared. The mom saw Ella dragging Santa towards them and collapsed in her husband’s arms. But her sobbing didn’t phase Ella: (A) – Ella had a plan; and (B) – Ella had seen mom and dad in uncontrollable tears more than enough to let it slow her down.

“Go in, please, go in and see Jamie, please.” She kept tugging.

I looked at the dad as he held his wife in one place. He said nothing. With tears streaming down his cheeks, he simply nodded, submitting to his daughter’s determination.

Finally, one of the nurses smiled and said, “Santa, you’ll need a mask.”

Before I could mumble either a reluctant agreement or lame excuse, I found myself capped, masked and gowned. Magically spun into light blue scrubs over my red velvet suit, with baggies over my tall black boots and a surgical mask pressed against my fluffy fake beard. Then I was given more information than I wanted or needed by a very sweet nurse – “He is not expected to make it through the end of the day.”

And the next thing I knew, I was sitting at the bedside of 5 year-old Jamie. Connected to more tubes and beeping machines than a NASA project.

All alone with a little boy I did not know, and who did not even know I was there. He was fast asleep.

I prefix and suffix every emotional strain in my life that I can anticipate by listening to music as preparation on the way in and for healing on the way out. Driving between hospitals I had listened to Steve Bell’s “Even so Lord Jesus Come,” at least a half dozen times. So, I put my index finger inside the palm of the little boy’s hand and sang sofly. And as I began the 3rd verse – “Holy Spirit breath of life, light a path through darkest night…” – God revealed Himself. Jamie’s eyes opened for 3 or 4 seconds. He smiled, squeezed my finger and fell back to sleep.

Up until that moment, I had felt all the things I would have guessed I would. That I would guess most everyone would. Tormented by helplessness. Devoured by the very thought of ever having to face this with my own children. Suffocated even trying to comprehend getting on with my life if it was one of my own children. And baffled by God’s unthinkable plan that allowed a 108 year-old woman from my church to live from 1899 in and out of 3 centuries (passing away only last week) and only giving this little boy mere years of struggle and pain. All these feelings overwhelmed me, but none of them surprised me.

Until his eyes opened for the briefest of time. Then I felt something I had never felt in my life. I was overcome with the realization that Jamie would see and be with Jesus before the day ended. And of all the absurd things I have ever felt – I felt jealous.

Nothing could have shocked me more. Even in the assurance of my faith, I have always been terrified by death. How it might come, when it might come, where it might come. Recently my pastor said in a sermon that death is a river we ultimately cross by ourselves, but Jesus is waiting on the shoreline. I remember praying in that very moment that Jesus would paddle out and pick me up at least half way…

But Jamie was not panicked. His river journey was well underway. And, while all that could be seen from this shoreline was the turbulence of despair, he was facing the calm and sunny shoreline with Jesus on it.

Do 5 year-olds with terminal illness get instant passes into heaven? If they don’t, then it is not the heaven I have imagined, and God is not the God that I have known – and I don’t want to go either. The answer can only be – “yes, they do.” No theologian could ever convince me otherwise, and would be wasting their time trying.

I stayed in the room for less than 3 minutes. Back in the hallway I was met by a beaming Ella. Santa Claus got on his knees and told her she was the bravest little girl he had ever known. I was true to my own Santa guidelines – no lying.

Indeed, she was the bravest little girl I had ever known. Courage to make something happen and seize moments that would be missed easily enough. She did not seek Santa for herself, and she didn’t ask him for a single gift. She just braved her way through the mayhem of confusing and distraught grown-ups to get something done.

Peace, comfort, glory, love, compassion – the Christmas season is filled with songs about the things that matter most. There are very few Christmas carols or songs about being brave. But surely, bravery is a gift that we need to sing about and celebrate. Especially bravery like little Ella’s.

The rest of my day was filled with Kris Kringling across the 401 and along the 416. Then, at 10:10 pm, on a long reflective ride home I received a call on my cell phone. The duty-nurse had taken my number, and called to tell me that Jamie was gone. He was on the shoreline – surely running and playing, eyes wide open – seeing and being with Jesus. Unknowingly honouring his brave sister and heartbroken parents by making the brave journey across the river.

When the call ended I turned my stereo back up – I had once again been listening to Steve’s Symphony Sessions. The first lyrics I heard, from the spectacular chorus of “This is Love” – a song setting apart God’s love from all other things: “But this is not the same. It’s a different thing, altogether. This is not the same. It’s a better thing. Altogether.. This is love. This is love.”

My day was filled with this-is-not-the-samedness. My prayer, hope and Christmas wish for one and all, this day and everyday, is that you would experience a love that is not the same. A different thing. A better thing.

 

 

Tell a Friend

 

I wrote the song ONCE in 2001. I am singing and playing piano on it, with some friends helping out: John Russell on guitar, Sharon Tiessen on cello, Dave Geldart on bass, and David White on back up vocals. ONCE was written as part of a three song CD called “Painting The Sky Behind Me”. It was written to honour my friends on the street – as I sent out copies that Christmas to my supporters through Youth Unlimited. Many years later I had a request for its use at a national assembly – so, I had my friend Mike Leney put some significant visuals to it. The visuals used were provided by various street-ministries and outreaches across Canada that attended the Street Level 2006 Conference in Ottawa . Since then, it has been used by many agencies across Canada for all kinds of advocacy events and receptions.

ONCE – lyrics and music by T.J. Huff, copyright T.J. Huff 2001

For permission to use this music/visual piece, please contact: juliakb@youthunlimitedgta.com?

Tell a Friend

Christmas 2007 

Though it was broken, she treated it as though it was nothing less than priceless. For after all – it was.

Trudy wouldn’t say why she had left home. The most she ever surrendered was said one evening as she ran her finger across the sharp edges of her sacred keepsake – “You can only get so broken and still be worth something.” Enough said.

A Christmas ornament. An ordinary round, red ball and hook, hanging from her worn napsack.

Tell a Friend

READ MORE...

December 23, 2003

Turkey, socks and a challenge

A dinner in the park, a news conference in the square. At  holiday time as no other, thoughts turn to the homeless.

NECO COCKBURN
Staff Reporter

It’s almost time.

The big white tent is well lit by candles and a lantern glowing amid the darkness of Grange Park downtown.

Hours have been spent preparing for the night’s feast.

Inside, a tarp covers the muddy ground. Eight chairs surround each of the five tables. A small bag of candy marks each guest’s place.

Tell a Friend

READ MORE...

Youth cry out for home

Jim Coyle

The idea of home is a profound one, for most us a physical place, a sense of rootedness, a santuary, a yearning. It speaks so much to the heart of things, touches people so deeply, that the notion of homelessness should be among the most awful there is.

For more than 10 years now, Tim Huff has seen homelessness in this city up close and in its worst manifestation: the mounting numbers of homeless youth. On Monday, he’ll help formally launch a project to do something about it. Huff is director of Youth Unlimited’s Light Patrol program, which has assembled and trained staff to help reach street kids, to gain a little trust, foster a little hope and link them up with the best available services. He’s been with Youth Unlimited for 15 years, helped develop a drop-in centre in Weston, then followed some of the most troubled of the clients downtown when they migrated there.

Tell a Friend

READ MORE...

It’s Only Rock n Roll, but I like it…

OUTRIDER is a “classic rock” band, fronted by Tim Huff. Rounded out by John Russell of Kingston on guitar, Steve Kennedy of Hamilton on bass, and Peter Bowman of Barrie on drums.

Tim: “When you’re young it’s hard enough to keep a band together if you aren’t living in the same neighbourhood, never less all over the map. Interesting – at this point, we live in 4 different cities, nowhere near each other, and aren’t afraid to use actual gigs as practices. Some would say that’s a lack of discipline and preparedness. We justify it as rock and roll. Okay, okay – we do practice some – I have a small practice studio in my home, and the guys will drive in from all directions to jam and work on new songs. But, it’s no joke – many a live gig comes down with the same vibe as a warm-up in my basement. Funny – those ones always seem to be the gigs that go best too.”

Outrider came together in the spring of 1995, when Double Edge (the Christian hard rock band that Tim was the lead singer of) disbanded. Over a 15 year period, Double Edge had gigged throughout eastern Canada, the northeastern United States, and all the way to St. Petersburg, Russia – and shared stages with the likes of The Resurrection Band, White Cross, White Heart, Darryl Mansfield, Bloodgood, and the Daniel Band.

Tim: “The Double Edge days were great for me. I am not sure they meant much to anyone else – but the guys in the band sure got lots out of it. Those were strange times. Good times for sure – but a bit strange. Looking back on the whole 80’s Christian hard rock/heavy metal scene – well, one thing I know for sure is that there’s a Spinal Tap adaptation that could surely be made about it. We were teenagers when we started into it all, and our hearts were in the right place. We bounced around a bit in our sound – moving from Van Halen sounding stuff to Iron Maiden sounding stuff, and later on to some interesting Queensryche influenced sounds. We were an ‘all originals’ band, so we spent a lot of time writing and practising. A lot of time. But likely not enough time creating our own original sound. We wrote, recorded and sent out demos to record companies and music magazines like crazy too. Places we had never imagined knowing anything about us were responding – but not much in our own backyard. I have framed royalty cheques from regular airplay in Japan and great magazine reviews from Holland and Germany… Oh ya, and lots of rejection letters from all over North America. And thank goodness we hung in there with an old AC/DC look and never ventured into the big hair and spandex thing. I have a lot of friends from bands of that era photoshopping a lot of old pictures…”

Outrider is a classic 4 piece line up, a la Led Zeppelin. It is not a Christian band”, but is 4 Christians in a band.

Tim: “Ya. I was ready for a real change after Double Edge. The whole ‘Christian band’ notion became an odd thing for me as I got older – and especially as I worked more and more with people living in the rough margins of society. I was never embarrassed by the term ‘Christian rock’ because for every really sorry band out there, I at least knew another one that I thought was pretty good. But the whole genre and terminology just seemed to strike people outside of that scene as though – ‘oh, it mustn’t be for me.’ And I don’t like things that don’t feel inclusive. Plus I wanted to play gigs where people just came to hear a decent rock and roll band – and then somewhere in it, hopefully, they would sense something kind of different going on.”

Outrider performs in a wide variety of venues: street parties, festivals, bars, prisons, biker rallies and at lots of charity events. Outrider chooses classic rock songs that they like to listen to on the radio and uses them as staples in their live set. Famous songs by famous bands that either have an uplifting or thought-provoking message, and that don’t oppose the band members’ faith.

Tim: “You know, some of the tunes are just good safe party classics like Kim Mitchell’s ‘ Go for a soda’. Some are real thinker tunes like Soul Asylum’s ‘Black Gold’, or ‘Runaway Train’. Some are hard truth songs like Pearl Jam’s ‘Jeremy’. Some are where-is-life-at tunes, like U2’s ‘I Still haven’t Found What I’m Looking For’, the Rolling Stones ‘You Can’t Always Get What You Want’, or Queen’s ‘Under Pressure’. And some, well most really, are just good old rock and roll tunes with positive messages, like Aerosmith’s ‘Dream on’, Triumph’s ‘Fight the Good Fight’ or Boston’s ‘Peace of Mind’. Songs with great hooks, great lyrics and that people can sing along to. Hey – we aren’t in it to make money, be stars, or to get a recording contract, or do anything like that. For me, those days were left behind with Double Edge. We just want to play where people might enjoy some of the same music we dig, and where they can hear songs that make them smile, or that make them feel a bit hopeful about whatever’s going on in their world.”

Outrider does write, record and perform some of their own material as well.

Tim: “When John (guitar) and I first got together we wrote a song called ‘Something New.’ And even though the song is now something kind of old, it is still a regular part of our set. I don’t know any guys in bands that don’t like to write their own stuff. It’s part of the fun of playing as a unit. Sometimes part of the agony too – but mostly fun. But when it comes to a live set, we know what people want to hear and we are glad to give it to them. It’s a bit of a slam dunk if you pick timeless rock and roll tunes, because even if someone thinks the band stinks, they’ll still think we’ve done something right if we know how to pick great songs. Hopefully no one thinks we are killing the classics – if they do, they have been kind enough not to tell us. And so we keep on doing our thing.”

Outrider is a road band that will paly any gig where the basic details are sorted out and where the organizers know what they are trying to make happen.

Tim: “Hey – Steve (bass) and I have been playing in bands together since I was 15 years old. He was in Double Edge with me, and playing in the ‘original’ – or should I say ‘first’ Third Day at the same time, while still in high school. Steve toured with them up and down the west coast. Pete (drums) was in a central Ontario band called RXN. And John – well John has picked up a guitar and jammed everywhere, with everyone. Now we all have full time jobs and families. Two of the guys are school teachers. But we still make it happen, where most of our buddies have bailed for one reason or another. We’re glad to still be at it. And we’re still willing to lug all the gear at some crazy hour of the night and get lost en route to places we’ve never been – if the gig is decent and the people behind it know what they are doing. If we get gas money, chicken wings and a crowd that wants us to be there – well, that will do. Prison, street party, pub – whatever. But we are long past the guesswork of road tripping to nowhere for broken promises. We have all paid our dues many times over on that kind of thing.”

Outrider always gives their best, but is not trying to prove themselves to anyone.

Tim: “Back in the Double Edge days we were mostly trying to reach a ‘young audience’. That was cool when we were young ourselves… but it got harder and harder as we got older and older. When we started up Outrider, I said to the guys – ‘Let’s not try too hard to be relevant, let’s just have some fun and play the stuff that fits us best.’ Crazy thing is, as soon as we did that, the younger audiences loved it. ‘Classic Rock’ became kind of cool. Not sure how long that’ll last – but I am guessing it will outlast us.”

For more information about Outrider, click here.

Tell a Friend

Christmas 2006

A fake Santa Claus and a homeless man, sitting on the wet sidewalk on Christmas Eve… singing, no less. Not a typical Christmas image. But indeed… sacred.

When my daughter was two years old, I thought it would be fun for her to see Santa Claus sneaking around in her own backyard, on Christmas Eve. That notion grew into an annual tradition that keeps me scurrying about friends’ backyards across the GTA, ending in my own. A Santa suit rental became a Santa suit creation, and December visits to hospitals and group homes are now all part of the big picture.

Tell a Friend

READ MORE...