A Space Comes to Life – reflections of Joan-e Rapine (Matte Asher Group)
A small shelter, in the neighborhood below the basketball court, has been serving the community for over a month. Almost every day, this little shelter fills with people who want to leave their homes and be together.
It began when approval was given to start respite activities. The welfare coordinator approached me excitedly: “Let’s see if the shelter is suitable.” It was a rainy day, and the synthetic grass at the entrance to Shelter 22 was quite soaked and full of puddles. We weren’t particularly concerned, because “it’s fine, there’s a team that will clean.” The shelter looked perfect. I immediately imagined four folding tables, surrounded by the hum of creative activity. It was love at first sight.
With the feeling of “I’m tired of sitting around, let’s get back to activity,” I went home to design a flyer advertising creative workshops three times a week.
From Shelter to Café
While I was immersed in the excitement of returning to doing, I discovered that the shelter would also serve as a café two full days a week. My initial reaction, “What?? No!”, almost immediately shifted to “It’s okay, there’s a war, we’ll manage, the main thing is that people leave their homes and come.”
Then the week began, and the shelter was buzzing. The café in the mornings and afternoons was packed (not by Hezbollah, but in the sense of “there are no seats left and people are standing along the walls”), and the space filled with the sounds of laughter, sharing, and connection.
Evenings of Connection
In the evening, the shelter changed its character and filled with soft music and the sounds of hearts connecting through creating together. And the shelter was happy. Very.
Growing Into Something More
Since then, Shelter 22 became a sleeping shelter (and the happiest among the shelters, because one of the sweetest families adopted it), and the connecting activities moved to Shelter 23 down the path.
Days turned into weeks. The number of activities in the shelter grew, and the shelter smiled, knowing that despite its small size, it could hold everyone. People continued, and continue, to leave their homes and enjoy coffee, lectures, creative activities, English, music, birthday celebrations, and qigong.
Holding More Than Expected
Sometimes, even in the middle of an activity, the shelter proves it can hold even more. When there’s a siren, neighborhood residents suddenly run inside, along with a few children carrying a ball and four or five dogs weaving between and under the tables.
And the shelter is happy, smiling broadly.
A Shelter With a Heart
I sometimes wonder whether the shelter is a little glad there is a war—because it missed the community so much—and whether it feels pride in its role in fostering connections between people (and dogs).
And every time I enter the shelter to set up for a workshop and turn on the light, I feel its excited breathing and sense its embrace.
