{"id":3396,"date":"2026-07-01T11:58:12","date_gmt":"2026-07-01T11:58:12","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/miles2go.ca\/?p=3396"},"modified":"2026-07-15T12:52:06","modified_gmt":"2026-07-15T12:52:06","slug":"my-name-is-jay","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/miles2go.ca\/index.php\/2026\/07\/01\/my-name-is-jay\/","title":{"rendered":"My name is Jay"},"content":{"rendered":"

I met Jay at Walmart on a cold winter morning.<\/strong><\/p>\n

Just outside the entrance door as I was going in. The funnel hood on his parka, rolled all the way forward, pushed a ring of long unruly hair out the front that largely hid his face from view. And made him look pretty scary. A stuffed duffel and an overflowing cloth shopping bag lay at his feet.<\/p>\n

People took one look at him and hurried inside. I did the same.<\/p>\n

When I left the store, Jay was limping along in the parking lot, duffel slung over one shoulder and cloth sack hanging from other arm. I first drove past him then turned around and asked where he was going. “Tim Horton’s.”<\/p>\n

The closest Tim’s was about a kilometre away. I was driving my wife’s car, quite a bit nicer than mine, and thought about his soiled clothing, duffel and sack. After a pause, “Can I give you a ride?”<\/p>\n

Jay agreed and piled his bags into the back seat. Not much talking. I was thinking about what to do next. As we got closer to Tim’s, “Can I buy you a coffee?” He agreed. I suggested he leave his bags in the car. We added a sandwich to the coffee. I could tell Jay hadn’t eaten in a while.<\/p>\n

He was easy to talk with and told me about himself. From Montreal Lake Cree Nation. 33 years old. Did some work as a roof shingler. Had a drinking problem but was in pretty good shape at the moment. In town to see his mother who was dealing with physical and mental issues.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

Jay’s shoes looked very thin and unsuitable for winter. “Aren’t your feet cold in these shoes?”<\/p>\n

“A bit. But mostly wet from snow melting in them.”<\/p>\n

We were about done. I asked how he was going to get to his mother’s place. He didn’t know.<\/p>\n

“Do you have time to go to Value Village to see if they have any winter boots I could buy you? Then give you a ride to your mother’s.” He agreed that would work.<\/p>\n

At Value Village, we found a pair of winter boots Jay liked. I shuddered when he took off his shoes. His socks were soaking wet and left entire footprints on the cement floor. I asked him to wait as I went looking for a pair of socks.<\/p>\n

With new, dry socks and sleek, black winter boots, Jay allowed me to take his picture.<\/p>\n

If you can, zoom in on his face and look closely at Jay’s eyes. I don’t want to over-dramatize this experience; however, there is a strong point to be made.<\/p>\n

“The eyes are a window to the soul.” A phrase untraceable in its origin but pervasive in its universality. You can see it in the eyes. The light of life. The spark of Creation. A person with all the same human attributes as me or you or anyone else. Even when on a face that etches the pain of a less-than-desirable life.<\/p>\n

Yes, the pain of life may dull the eyes. And, if bad and long enough, can glaze them over. But look closely at the spark of life in Jay’s eyes. Someone has just offered him a touch of genuine respect, has reached out to restore some balance, even if infinitely small in measure, to the vast gap between the have’s and the have not’s.<\/p>\n

It would be so easy to say, “There, but for the grace of God, go I.” But also so trite. Something inside me shouts that God’s grace has nothing to do with it. Jay is a victim of a life context that largely condemned him to the situation he was in today.<\/p>\n

God didn’t pick me to bless with abundance and Jay to inflict with subsistence. I won the lottery in how my life began and was able to evolve. Doors of opportunity opened for personal choices that enhanced the progressive comfort of my life.<\/p>\n

Jay was denied a ticket in that lottery. He faced closed doors that encouraged undesirable personal choices. A life journey to where I met him – carrying all his possessions in two bags, enduring harsh winter in summer shoes and soaking wet feet, and not sure how to find his mother who was dealing with her own debilitating issues.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

Jay reminded me of Robert. [See My Name is Robert<\/em> – April 8, 2024].<\/p>\n

A very different situation. But similar in the way both of them pulled their shoulders back and stood tall for the picture. A posture that reflects human dignity being received and given in response.<\/p>\n

I spent $75 that morning with Jay. Tim’s, Value Village, and some cash when I dropped him off at his mother’s place across town.<\/p>\n

Will I miss out on something I need because of that money? Not a chance. Will I get back the 3 hours I spent with Jay. No. But would I have done something more relevant or valuable had I just continued past him in that parking lot? I don’t think so.<\/p>\n

Am I looking for a medal? No. I just want to remind myself, every day if possible, that I am blessed.<\/p>\n

And that I have a responsibility to respond with gratitude, generosity and great humility each time there is opportunity to touch another life with something in my power to share.<\/p>\n

My name is Jay. My name is Robert. My name is Ron. My name is . . ..<\/p>\n

I am a human being worthy of respect, worthy of dignity, worthy of opportunity and potential for self-esteem no matter my lot in life.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

I met Jay at Walmart on a cold winter morning. Just outside the entrance door as I was going in. The funnel hood on his parka, rolled all the way forward, pushed a ring of long unruly hair out the front that largely hid his face from view. And made him look pretty scary. A…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[24],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-3396","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-issues"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/miles2go.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3396","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/miles2go.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/miles2go.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/miles2go.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/miles2go.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3396"}],"version-history":[{"count":37,"href":"https:\/\/miles2go.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3396\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3573,"href":"https:\/\/miles2go.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3396\/revisions\/3573"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/miles2go.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3396"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/miles2go.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3396"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/miles2go.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3396"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}