One woman’s journey through compassion and change

I was lucky enough to ‘find’ Aberdeen Cyrenians when I applied for a job at the Women’s Hostel, way back in 1992. I continued on my own path for the next 22 years, always part of the Cyrenian ‘family’.

What do I remember? It’s hard to know where to start. I met some of the loveliest people - some remain close friends, others are still in my heart. Service users and colleagues alike. A few still make me want to weep for the utter tragedy of their lives.

The Women’s Hostel was a haven for disaffected, vulnerable, chaotic women who needed support at critical points in their lives. Often given up on by other services. All they needed was a safe place, someone to care, to give them respect and help them regain self-respect. That’s what Aberdeen Cyrenians strove to do - and that became the theme throughout my time there.

From there, I moved into supporting people leaving Cyrenian accommodation and setting up their own tenancies. I was a ‘Support Worker’ and I honestly felt like I’d won the lottery with that job. Seeing people move on, take responsibility, and make a go of things was heart-warming.

I loved being part of the support team and working closely with Stopover, Wernham House, and Clifton Road. Of course, it could be devastating when things didn’t work out - but we never gave up. We always tried to find another way. Sometimes over and over again.

Eventually I became Depute Manager at the Summer Street Drop-In. A daily service for homeless people in need of... just about everything. Warmth, food, showers, washing machines. Help with benefits, housing, addiction, mental health - you name it, we did it.

I once said in a radio interview that Summer Street was like the TV show Cheers - “where everybody wants to go where someone knows their name.” I asked staff to learn names fast. People should feel acknowledged and valued the minute they walked in.

Some people we met there moved on and thrived. Others were huge characters or huge challenges. After work we’d often head to Filthy McNasty’s across the road to ‘debrief’ - then come back the next day ready to go again.

I remember opening the service one Christmas Day and sitting with someone who just wanted company. After we spoke for an hour, he said, “Thank you for listening.” I was so humbled. It made me realise how few people just get listened to. That warmth and compassion - that’s what so many people were missing in their lives.

That Christmas was one of my best. I worked many more after that.

Then came my biggest ‘lottery win’: Manager of Clifton Road, working with young people aged 16–17, moving from being looked after into their own tenancies. I felt a real responsibility to help them build better futures. They were still young enough to change direction.

There were rewards and challenges in equal measure. I loved helping young people at such a pivotal point. Supporting my team and seeing them grow was a joy - though they often got so good they moved on to other Cyrenian projects!

Clifton Road was an emotional roller coaster. Some young people had already lived through horrors that made me feel angry and helpless. But hearing them laugh, watching them cook, managing relationships, going off to college or work - those were the highs.

The lows? Having to ask someone to leave because their behaviour was too challenging. Worst moments of all.

There are memories I’ll never forget: being called out in the middle of the night to find a whole room’s furniture thrown out the window; a girl crying after getting her dream job because her mum told her she wouldn’t last a week; hearing a young man say his mum’s only praise came when he helped her partner break into houses.

And still, they smiled. As one staff member said, “It’s amazing they can still smile.”

Some things stick with me. A girl didn’t unpack for four months - she was used to being moved on. One day she started putting things in the wardrobe. That was a moment. A young man who couldn’t make eye contact and mumbled - months later, he held his head up and spoke clearly. That was a moment.

The little things were what kept me going.

Getting good Care Inspectorate reports felt great. But also things like 8 out of 10 young people voting in the referendum - we’d explained the issues and encouraged them to take part. That made me so proud.

I also delivered Aims and Values training to new staff and loved it. Explaining the Cyrenian way and hearing staff talk about their own values - you could instantly see why they’d been hired.

There are phrases that echo in my mind from those years. “Wired to the moon” or “my heid’s in a bin” from Ms Montgomerie. “How do you eat an elephant? In small chunks.” That one really helped when dealing with huge, overwhelming issues.

Another colleague stuck a note to the wall: “This too will pass.” I had that on my filing cabinet for years.

And one fable always stayed with me: the sun and the wind challenge each other to get a man to take off his coat. The wind blows and blows - but he just pulls it tighter. The sun simply shines, and the man takes it off. Persuasion is better than force.

Finally, what I felt most proud of was being part of the Cyrenian ‘family’. Learning the name’s origin - how Simon of Cyrene helped Christ carry his cross - resonated with me. Not religiously, but on a human level. To walk alongside someone in their darkest hour, to offer support when others have given up - that’s the Cyrenian way.

When the Chief Executive told me her daughter (also a colleague) had called me a true Cyrenian, I was absolutely delighted. That’s the greatest compliment I could ever receive.