Dear Saint John,
Lately, I’ve been practicing beauty instead of gratitude.
Practicing beauty is a different way of noticing everyday things, like the sunlight on the fountain in King’s Square in the morning or the shadow of a streetlamp in the evening. Noticing that the harbour is the deepest shade of green, blue, and brown because in the fog everything else is the softest pale grey. I stop for the texture of an old brick building, the silhouette of a steeple, or the determination of a tiny flower growing in the crack of a sidewalk.
And I’ve noticed something funny. Finding beauty makes me feel grateful.
Saint John is a gritty, industrial city with container ships and cranes, graffitied trains, old buildings and empty lots. But there is something about the light here that can make an ordinary street look extraordinary and take your breath away.
Working at the Human Development Council has taught me to pay attention to some of the hardest realities facing our communities. Poverty. Homelessness. Food insecurity. Housing. The gaps between what people need and what they can afford.
But those things exist alongside generosity and resilience. Alongside neighbours helping neighbours, and communities that refuse to give up.
Beauty doesn’t erase hardship. But what we choose to see as beautiful shapes what we value, and what we simply walk by.
Perhaps that’s true for communities, too.
Still hopeful,
Andrea
