My friend from the forest.
Have you ever met one of those “magical children” who talks to tree spirits and aliens and sees ghosts? That’s Matthew. There is something magical and special about him. One minute you’re discussing the weather, and the next you’re talking about the crystal light people that you can only see through refracted light. The conversations just always felt so normal.
When I knew Matthew, he lived in a haunted forest near the Grand River. We often talked about the forest spirits. Most were good, but there were also some who were not. Occasionally, they would threaten or harass him so badly that you might see Matthew on the street yelling back at them.
Matthew is like a living poem. His manner is light, friendly, and inviting, but there is a world of deeper meaning and complexity just below the surface.
One winter, while we were chatting and drinking coffee together out in the snow, a young homeless man walked up. No one knew him, and he wasn’t dressed to be outside. As I poured him a hot cup of coffee, Matthew took off his coat and insisted the kid put it on.
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