Homeless in winter at age 88

Today, I was blessed to meet a gentleman who is 88 years of age. He has been staying with us for a bit, clients told me he was abused by other residents at another place.
I could not believe this lovely senior citizen has been treated so badly, and with so much disregard. I promised him we are going to get him into an apartment, ASAP.
Then we are going to demand from every level of authority in the City of Windsor, Ontario and their funded/grant recipient agencies that a suitable housing apartment be found for him. SHAME, SHAME, SHAME on everyone who will treat an Elder so badly.Homeless in Windsor in Winter at age 88

I searched for him online and I found he was a member of his band council for many, many years. I printed the history of Chippewas of Nawash Band, and gave him a copy.
At first, he was not certain he should read it, but he turned to me, with deep sadness in his teary eyes, and said, “I haven’t heard or seen so many of these names in a long time. Thank you.”
I asked him if he had any relatives, and he said no. He was the very last of his family.
He gave me a big smile, and I told him I am going to help him get an apartment. STREET HELP is the little guy, in this battle against homelessness, but we get things DONE, and with LOVE.

© Zora Zebic 2018


UPDATE: We may have located his daughter! I will try to connect the two tomorrow via video phone call! I will update again tomorrow! Also, we have made connections to reunite him to his community! God is Great!


Dinosaurs & Fire-Breathing Dragons

Dragon vs Dinosaur
dragon attacking dinosaur

They sit in my office, waiting for their dad to finish some handyman work he is doing for me. Sensing their boredom, I show them a ‘magic stone’ that sits on my desk. “Do you know what this is?”, I ask.

My young great-niece and great-nephew shake their heads, obviously disinterested. “Hum”, I say, and continue, “This is a never-ending, authentic-history-telling stone.” I grin, knowing I have their full attention, as they both peer intently at the stone.

My great-nephew, the younger of the two, asks, “How does it tell history, does it talk?” I smile and say, “It tells it’s story by pictograph.” My great-neice says, “I don’t see a picture.”

I trace my pencil tip around the shapes, explaining how the top figure is a pictograph of a dragon swooping down to attack the bottom figure, which is a dinosaur. I say, “This magic stone tells the story of how the last fire-breathing dragon killed the last dinosaur. That is how the dinosaurs became extinct.”

They children look up at me, their faces betraying their amazement of my story. I continue my dictation of the pictograph story, “The magic stone also tells the story of how the last fire-breathing dragon died, after there were no more dinosaurs to hunt for food.”

Just as I finish my tale, their dad walks in to announce he has completed the job for me. He looks over at his children and says, “You guys look like your having fun.” His children run over to him, exclaiming in unison, “Auntie just told us what happened to all the fire-breathing dragons and dinosaurs!” He smiles and says to me, “I’m gonna have to hear that story some day.”

© Zora Zebic 2018

The Other Side

I suffered for a long time, from what I thought were wierd dreams. It was not so much the content of the dreams but they were continued stories. I know, that in itself sounds strange!

An example of what I am trying to express is a) I had a conversation with a particular person b) I would ask a question, but wake before the answer c) the answer would given d) the conversation would move on.

The above example would happen over 4 nights!

Not all of the dreams are negative. In fact, most are positive where I am talking to angels, noteworthy people who have passed on, and sometimes to relatives I had never met!

hazeOften I am left feeling I am in a haze.

I was recently diagnosed with sleep apnea. Sleep apnea is when a person stops breathing for 10 seconds or more. Apparently, I stop breathing on average of 14 times an hour. I was told I am in the category of mild to moderate, closer to moderate.

Now all this makes me wonder; each time when I stop breathing, am I making mini trips to the Other Side?

© Zora Zebic 2017

If I fell into a cloud

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Su Hao a/k/a Kohlrabi

I enjoy finding veggies with quasi-human characteristics. This little, grumpy-faced guy looked like he was winking at me! As usual, the childhood memories resurfaced.


When I was a young girl I’d lain flat on my back on the lawn to watch the clouds as they’d sailed over me. My finger had pointed to the sky as I’d excitedly called out, “Look! That cloud flying by is shaped like a puppy and that other one looks like a man with a grouchy face!”

A nun had been standing over me, robed in her black and white habit with scapular, cowl, veil and gigantic rosary beads about her waist. She had scolded me saying, “It is evil to create images. What you are looking at is nothing more than clouds.”

I’d pondered how seeing shapes in clouds could be evil. As I’d done so, the nun had voiced a further lesson to me. “The clouds are not flying, instead the earth is spinning around as it rolls around in the sky The people in the north look up, those in the south are looking down at the sky. Those people otherwise all around the earth are looking sideways when they think they are looking up.”

I had been too frightened to ask if I’d been looking up, down or sideways! I had slowly dug my little fingers into the soil, fearing I could slip off the earth. I’d then wondered if the clouds, like the pillow on my bed, would cushion me if I fell?

Slowly I’d released the earth from my fingers and I had gotten to my feet. When they stayed planted on the ground, I had surmised that we were in the north and felt relief. A second emotion washed over me as I’d felt pangs of fear for all the people who would be sideways or down.

Two horrible questions had formed in my mind 1. Would the sideways people all slide down to the bottom of the earth? 2. Would they fall down into the sky to join the bottom people that surely must have fallen already? I would later be taught about gravity, but in my child mind that day the concept did not exist.

Also that day I had wondered, why the large wooden crucifix hanging from her rosary beads bore a 3d metal image meant to represent the crucified Jesus. Looking more closely I’d observed a smaller image of a skull and cross bones attached to the crucifix!

I would later learn the skull and cross bones refers to the hill on which Jesus had been crucified. The hill was called “Golgotha” – the place of the skull. I found a cross made of skulls – I will add an photo of it at a later date as I am away from home. I’d found the cross a curiosity, until I’d learned more about Golgotha.

My memories, once I am able to retrieve them to carefully dissect and analyze them, continue to explain to me why I’d been a confused and overly sensitized child.

© Zora Zebic, 2017


A Growing Tribute

A tale of beautiful hearts still blooming despite the dead hearts. Great story Rita!


I’ve always loved sunflowers since I was a youngster. The towering yellow flowers make me smile. Dad wouldn’t plant them in the front yard like I requested back then. However, in later years, he always planted a row of sunflowers at the edge of his vegetable garden right up until his last summer.


This year, Mom and I noticed a row of sunflowers coming up at the garden’s edge once more. Mom hadn’t asked any of us to plant them. She wanted to keep it simple, being almost 91. Just tomatoes, cukes and zucchini. Another sister snuck in some squash or gourds—I’m not sure which—but the vine is humongous!


It ends up my brother was responsible for planting the sunflowers. To keep the tradition going or growing, you could say! In memory of Dad. Dad’s sunflowers always were bigger than mine and this year “his” sunflowers bloomed earlier and are…

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