The Olive Branch

By Mike Musgrove

I pulled into the parking lot of The Olive Branch Shelter and stopped the truck. If I could have put my head down on the steering wheel and cried without making a scene, I might have. It was July 27th, two days after many of us received an emergency warning us to stay out of the Langley Downtown core because of “multiple shooting scenes” involving “transient victims.” Three, dead. On the same day and only a couple hours before, a woman on the Downtown East side had flammable liquid poured and ignited on her head.

Transient victims…transient victims…what does that even mean?

Who are the victims? Who is transient? None of us? All of us?

We are so far from where we are supposed to be.

Shoot! Constable Ross is looking at me, so I have to smile and wave.

I snapped out of my daze and smiled and waved at the constable whom I knew well. He is kind and compassionate with the people we serve. Today though he sees me he doesn’t wave; he only acknowledges me with a glance and an eyebrow raise. He looks serious and so does the guest speaking with him.

I take in the scene. There are two police cars, two bylaw vehicles and a dump truck in front of the mission. Not an entirely unusual scene, but today there are several officers surrounding Constable Ross.

I get out of the truck. They are all listening to Sam, one of our guests who I can now hear speaking intensely to the group. To my negative morning ears, it sounds like defiance. Other guests and staff are starting to gather around now too, but as I get closer everyone just separates in an amicable way. The officers walk away smiling and nodding their heads at each other with expressions that indicate disbelief. Constable Ross chuckles and says, “Cool. Thanks,” to Sam, then starts walking in my direction.

“Is everything ok?” I ask him.

“Yes. Great,” he says, but before I can inquire further, Sam joined in the conversation.

“You know what an Olive branch is?” he asks intensely. My cloud had still not lifted. I am not in the mood for this. He continued before I could answer, “Of course you do, you are the big boss man here. An olive branch is extended for peace. It is what you do here.”

My heart softened, my eyes welled instantly, and I stood there feeling the LORD’s blessing. “Thanks Sam. You have no idea how much that means to me today.”

“I wrote a poem,” Sam says. At this point I should add that Sam is a prolific writer. His full name is Sam Rhymes, and he stays with us at The Olive Branch. “Do you want to hear it?”

With a chuckle and moderate expectations, I said, “Yes, Sam. I would love to.”

With an intense and emotion filled voice, he began to read his poem called,

Extending the Olive Branch:

To shelter your children, from hatred and harm,

You must teach them with love, understanding and charm.

I smiled and listened. He continued reading and came to this line:

The ones who were taught to love and understand,

To the ones that hate, they must extend a hand.

My heart lifted, I smiled and quietly said, “That is amazing, Sam.”

“C’mon man! Don’t interrupt!” Sam said. “Now I have to start over!”

I had forgotten the rule that Constable Ross did not forget: You do not interrupt Sam Rhymes when he is reading.

“Come on Sam! I can’t even react? This is awesome! Please keep going.”

He smiled and went back a couple lines and read the poem to the end.

When he finished, we discussed the poem for a while and then parted company. I walked to my office awestruck by both Sam’s skillful use of words and God’s amazing timing. He is right, the best we can do is extend a hand of hope and peace and know that ultimately love is victorious over hate.

Let all that you do be done in love. (1 Corinthians 16:14 ESV)

To see Sam’s full poem, click here.