When I started out on the street, I immediately met my namesake, “Robert Kinghorn.”  Before I spoke a word, he gave me an update: “I am still back with my wife and kids. I have had enough of sitting on the steps of this church in the midst of drugs and addicts.” 

It was nice to get an update, but it is not the first time that he has spoken these words only to be enticed back by the lure of the street. I continued my route to meet up with two sisters, “Red bag” and “Miss Too” whom I have known for many years on the street as prostitutes who frequent one of the side roads.

I had met “Red Bag” first and it had taken several months before she trusted me enough to start to talk with me. However, after opening up, she was quite talkative, although very guarded about her personal life, except to say that she had come from an African city. Normally they are together. Her sister, “Miss Too,” only appeared on the scene many months later, and this was the first time I had ever met Miss Two alone without her sister. Miss Two has always been the quieter one, and I thought to myself, “Finally a chance to get her alone and I will find out more about their situation, and if they are being trafficked.”

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After a little chat, when I asked her if she was okay and told her I was praying for her, she unexpectedly asked, “Can we go to your house and have coffee?” I had just been propositioned, not for the first time on the street, but my heart sank. I really thought that of the two “sisters,” she was the one who would give me the truth about why they are on the street, how they got there and if they are being forced into prostitution. 

It had taken about 10 years to get to the stage of being trusted by them, and I really was not expecting to be propositioned. I could only mumble, “I live many miles from here, so I am not going to be taking you to my home.” With that, she turned her back on me. It was the chilling reality that struck me.

 I could not believe that after five years of patiently getting to know them week after week, I had misjudged the situation. I hoped I could eventually help them to get off the streets and into some other way of living. I recalled again the truth of what Fr. Greg Boyle said about gangs in Los Angeles, “Be careful of having expectations for people, you will often be disappointed and you may burn out.” 

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Once again, I remembered the truth of all ministries that I heard from Pope John Paul II when he came to our city for World Youth Day many years ago.

“You can trust in Jesus because He trusts in you and will always support you.” I followed my usual steps to pray at the doorway where my friend Chilly died, and in a very personal way I asked her to look over and protect Red Bag and her sister from the ravages of the street. When I left the doorway, a lady whom I did not recognize peeled away from the group she was with and started walking with me. 

“Hey Robert, I know you from the street, you know my ‘ex.’ I am the ex-girlfriend of your namesake on the street,” she said.

As we walked along it was clear that she knew almost everyone on the street, calling them all by name. 

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“I am fighting addiction,” she said, “and I also have a brain injury. My son in Calgary is also fighting addiction, and I think of him all the time.” 

I could hear grief, regret and guilt in her voice as she spoke of her son. I promised to pray for both of them that healing would take place in their lives. We parted with a fond farewell and she left to join a group of friends. When I arrived back where I had started the evening, my namesake was still there, and I said, “good night” to him, without of course mentioning that I had met his “ex.”