Homeless in Paris Homeless in Paris | Page 66

B"H which stretches beyond infinity, the person cultivates what he does out of self-interest. One may find no one with whom to share it. Just the sa me, the pursuit of happiness is intrinsic unto itself and the individual who does well by himself can have a heart full o f emanating happy feeling when later in the presence of so meone, to who m he can relate a shared p erception, the purposefulness life we call love. These literary passages through the tunnel of the ho meless took place in the months of Adar and Nisan, during the spring 2010, a time of anticipation, regeneration, and salvation. In all my meanderings, I had to be so cautious, so afraid, and insecure about where I'd be able to squat, enjoy the comforts of ho me. I had a decent survival routine with the Elephant family who kept mitzvahs, and the rental included use of the kitchen for mea l preparations. I was receiving a living stipend that made it possible to get through the month. I could have imagined re maining until after Pesach (though I did not); I needed to concentrate on an occupation, and had already landed some work. There were spiritual forces at work. Shame I didn't ignite a native expressio n that includes dance and music. As mentioned, the main floor of the Elephant dwelling consisted of a front room that included scenery and props to serve fittingl y as a synagogue : a bookcase for prayer books, tables and a podium, the Aron Kodesh for the Sefer Torah, and official tables wit h prayer books to make it a very official-looking holy institution. As difficult as it is for me to write about this , I feel the point must be made, and there's really no one else to say it. The extension of my visit would now include Purim, the celebration of effort to thwart wicked that prevails in the world where virtue triumphs . Attached to the downstairs rental unit was a filthy cluttere d garage within in which were stored the stinky garbage bins until their once weekly disposal pick -ups. Among the trash. Litter and debris was a grubby cot with a dilapidated mattress and a moth bitten rag of a blanket. In these quarters was imprisoned a homeless unemployed late middle-aged Jewish alcohol addict na med Harry. The Elephant rabbi would screech at Harry every time he needed a tenth person to complete his quorum for prayer services, and screa med at the old illiterate men he paid to be there, and yelled at his 12 year old son, and demanded of me to be a 66