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On Vancouver Island, where winters are defined by relentless rain, high humidity, and bone-chilling dampness, the system for opening extreme weather shelters is fundamentally flawed. Today’s conditions in Parksville exemplify this: temperatures hover around 6°C, but with 100% humidity and winds making it feel like 0.5°C, outdoor survival is unbearable for the unhoused. Yet, shelters remain closed because government thresholds prioritize freezing temperatures over the real dangers of wet cold. According to BC’s guidelines, communities coordinate with BC Housing to activate Extreme Weather Response (EWR) shelters during alerts, typically when lows reach 0°C or colder, or with wet, snowy, or windy conditions. On the Island, regional criteria are stricter: in the Regional District of Nanaimo, activation requires -4°C or below, or 0°C with a weather warning. In Comox Valley, it’s similar—0°C with alerts or -4°C forecasts. These benchmarks, set for drier interiors, ignore coastal realities where hypothermia strikes in damp conditions above freezing. This rigged setup leads to inconsistency: shelters open sporadically, leaving people exposed on “mild” but miserable days. With no precipitation today but saturated air amplifying cold, lives are at risk. It’s time for all-weather shelters— year-round and no threshold havens —to end this failure and provide humane protection. Robin Campbell Manna Homeless Society Monetary donations can be made by e-transfer to: MannaParksville@gmail.com Or cheques can be sent to: Manna Homeless Society PO Box 389 Errington BC VOR 1VO

Dear Friend, As Christmas approaches, the streets take on a different glow—lights strung across lampposts, carols drifting from shop doors, the scent of pine and cinnamon in the air. It is the season when our hearts are supposed to open widest, when we are reminded of love incarnate, of a Child born in a stable because there was no room at the inn. And every year, without fail, we notice them more clearly: the individuals on the street who are struggling, at risk, or homeless. We see the man huddled in a doorway with a thin blanket, the woman sitting beside a cardboard sign, the young person pacing to keep warm. In December, something in us stirs, and we reach into our pockets, or we buy an extra coffee, or we volunteer at this time of year. There are so many quiet ways to show love in this season. A warm meal handed through a car window. A pair of socks, a hat, or a new blanket. A conversation that treats the person as a person—asking their name and listening for a moment. Dropping off coats at a collection drive. Serving at a Christmas dinner for those who would otherwise be alone. These acts are simple, but they are real expressions of love, reminders that no one should be invisible, especially when the world is celebrating abundance. Image by Joshua Woroniecki from Pixabay Yet I must be honest with you, as I try always to be honest with myself: we do this far more readily in December than in any other month. Why? The truth is uncomfortable. Christmas drapes everything in sentiment. Songs tell us it’s the most wonderful time of the year. Films show even the stingiest souls transformed overnight by the magic of the season. Churches fill with people who rarely attend the rest of the year, drawn by candlelight services and familiar carols. Charities run their most visible campaigns now, tugging at heartstrings with images of cold children and empty plates. We receive year-end bonuses or tax-deductible donation reminders. The cold is sharper, the nights longer, and suffering feels more urgent against the backdrop of our own warmth and plenty. In short, December makes it easy to care. The cultural machinery of Christmas does half the work for us—it puts generosity on the calendar, packages it attractively, and rewards us with a pleasant glow of having done the right thing. We feel the contrast between our heated homes and the frozen pavement more acutely. We want to believe we are good people, and giving in December lets us prove it to ourselves with minimal disruption to our routines. But after the decorations come down, the urgency fades. The same man in the doorway becomes part of the scenery again. The same woman with the sign blends into the background. Our schedules fill back up with work and obligations, and the emotional high of the holidays dissipates. We tell ourselves we’ll help later, when we have more time or money, yet the months roll by and we rarely do. The truth is that need does not take a holiday. Cold bites in January too. Hunger does not pause in March. Loneliness deepens in the long stretch of ordinary days when no one is singing about peace on earth. I do not write this to scold us—myself included—but to name what is true. Seasonal charity is still charity; it still warms bodies and hearts. But if the love we feel in December is genuine, it deserves to outlast the tinsel. The individuals on the street are not seasonal props in our story of holiday redemption. They are people, every single day of the year. So perhaps this Christmas, while we do the good we are moved to do, we can also make a quiet promise: to carry a little of this awareness forward. To notice in April what we notice in December. To give in July with the same openness we feel now. Love that is only convenient is a thinner kind of love, and we are capable of more. May this season soften our hearts—and may the softening last. With hope, Your friend Robin Campbell Manna Homeless Society Thanks for your kindness and compassion. Monetary donations can be made by e-transfer to: MannaParksville@gmail.com Or cheques can be sent to: Manna Homeless Society PO Box 389 Errington BC VOR 1VO

Dear Mayors and Councils of Parksville and Qualicum Beach, Last week in Qualicum Beach, as documented with the gas station at the top of the hill and with the RCMP, we at Manna Homeless Society encountered a senior citizen stripped of hope and clothes, disrobing in the intersection as despair overtook him. He’d heard of a shelter in Qualicum but found none. And although the gas station called the police, it was we at Manna who talked him down, offered love, clothed him, fed him, and gave him money for transport to a shelter in Nanaimo. We also gave him a tent, sleeping bag, and tarp as a backup and continued to show him the love and respect that society is denying him as we escorted him onto a bus bound for another city that would take responsibility to care for him while his own town does nothing. Before he left, he told us Manna volunteers that he had given up. With nowhere to go and nothing left to do, he lost his senses and began weeping. Thanks to our care, he was able to come around. This is one story among dozens: a mother shielding her child from pouring rain, an elder collapsing in wind-swept fields, and lives fraying, while cities hide behind “thresholds.” We’ve already lost lives this year—souls extinguished not by arctic freezes, but by the wet misery that government officials ignore. I write to you with a heart heavy with grief and outrage, exposing the cruel farce of British Columbia’s extreme weather shelter 'rules'—a system that pretends to protect the homeless while condemning them to suffer and die in silence. According to provincial guidelines from the BC HEAT Committee and BC Housing, extreme weather alerts trigger when forecast low temperatures drop to 0°C or below, or slightly higher with wet, windy, or snowy conditions. But on Vancouver Island, where winters hover around average lows of 2-3°C, this threshold is a scam, rarely met despite the bone-chilling reality of relentless rain, howling winds, and damp cold that seeps into every fibre, turning exposure into a slow, agonizing killer. In Parksville, as there are no shelters because “rules must be followed,” homeless people huddle in doorways, their thin blankets soaked through, bodies shivering uncontrollably as hypothermia claims them. Manna Homeless Society meets them on the streets daily, seeing no 'survival equipment,' as some infer, but instead, ragged clothes and desperate eyes. When a local official tells of personal patrols finding people “well prepared,” might they be referring to the tarps, tents and clothing that Manna has provided as a temporary stopgap in order to survive Oceanside's cold wet winter weather? We see the truth, one person at a time: vulnerability, not resilience. What have we become? A society that lets rules eclipse humanity? These aren’t outsiders; they’re our neighbours who are struggling, forced to sleep outdoors during winter. An all-weather shelter is an easy, humane fix—Why force suffering? How many more deaths before you act? Parksville, Qualicum Beach—your inaction torments the whole community, burdening charities like Manna to address what you do not. We implore you to open all-weather shelters now or bear the consequences. Lives depend on it. With extreme urgency, Robin Campbell Manna Homeless Society Volunteer Monetary donations can be made by e-transfer to: MannaParksville@gmail.com Or cheques can be sent to: Manna Homeless Society PO Box 389 Errington BC VOR 1VO

Every Saturday morning Ronalda Welsh and Rod Morisson donate their time handing out hot dogs. Everyone who shows up to Manna is very grateful for this! 🌭

Answering the call for relief from our cold wet winter season, Ian Lindsey from RE/MAX Professionals presents Manna with high quality men’s and ladies' socks. This gift will have a wonderful impact on the foot comfort of the less fortunate in our community. Thank you.

Sue (left) from Scrapbook Garage showed up with sleeping bags, clothing, food - with Raquel (right) from Manna Homeless Society. How WONDERFUL!

View the PDF file here

In the depths of winter, the sight of a makeshift tent huddled against the cold wall of a building serves as a stark reminder of societal failures. This image encapsulates the raw cruelty of homelessness, where vulnerable individuals endure freezing temperatures, exposed to the elements with little more than thin fabric for protection. Reports highlight how such encampments, often pushed to urban peripheries or against structures for minimal shelter, reflect a broader crisis exacerbated by harsh weather, leading to increased risks of hypothermia, illness, and despair. Advocates argue that this is not just unfortunate but inhumane, as cities sometimes respond with sweeps that displace people without alternatives, perpetuating a cycle of instability rather than offering real solutions.    As good and loving citizens, we grapple with the empathy this evokes, yet the persistence of such scenes underscores a disconnect between compassion and action. One practical response to this cruelty lies in repurposing empty buildings—vacant offices, abandoned hotels, or underutilized federal properties—into shelters or transitional housing. Initiatives like Oregon’s Project Turnkey have successfully converted such spaces into safe havens, providing immediate relief and a pathway to stability for those on the streets.    With estimates of surplus properties far outnumbering the unhoused in many areas, this approach could transform urban blight into communal assets. However, conflicts abound: bureaucratic hurdles, zoning laws, liability concerns, and high conversion costs often stall progress, while some homeless individuals avoid shelters due to restrictive rules on pets, possessions, or personal freedoms.     This tension reveals a deeper societal conflict between short-term fixes and addressing root causes like mental health support and affordable housing shortages, challenging us as a community to bridge the gap between good intentions and effective policy.

Published 5:35 am Tuesday, December 2, 2025 in PQB News Living on the street can make it practically impossible to keep one’s feet dry in the rainy winter months, which can result the skin breaking down and peeling away, bacterial infections, blisters and other painful conditions. “Most of the issues are preventable,” said Raquel Molina, who has been a foot care nurse with Manna Homeless Society for approximately five years. Read full article at: https://pqbnews.com/2025/12/02/foot-care-on-the-street-wet-feet-a-painful-health-hazard-for-pqb-unhoused/

By a Concerned Oceanside Resident In the picturesque coastal community of Parksville on Vancouver Island — known for its sandy beaches, retiree-friendly vibe, and quaint downtown — a dark underbelly festers unchecked as winter grips the region. While tourists flock here in summer for Rathtrevor Beach sunsets, a growing number of locals face nights of unimaginable desperation. With no permanent overnight shelter and extreme weather protocols that activate only in the most dire conditions, vulnerable people are left to fend for themselves in freezing temperatures. The result? A hidden epidemic of “survival sex,” where bodies are traded not for luxury or choice, but for a few hours of warmth in a motel room, a car, or a stranger’s home. Women and young men—the most targeted demographic groups in this crisis—bear the brunt. Outreach workers and those with lived experience whisper of a grim reality: to escape the biting cold, many offer sexual favours to strangers circling the streets in vehicles. These predators — opportunistic locals or travellers passing through on Highway 19 — know Parksville’s vulnerabilities all too well. No overnight help means easy pickings. They prowl parking lots near the community park, the beach access points, or along the Alberni Highway, watching for silhouettes huddled in doorways or tents. A warm car seat, a motel key, or even a shared blanket becomes currency. It’s not “sex work” in the empowered sense; it’s survival sex— a term used in studies across Canada for trading bodily autonomy to meet basic needs like shelter. Victims don’t advertise; who would admit it publicly? Shame silences them. They sell themselves for warmth, not safety, stepping into vehicles or rooms with people who could harm them further. Assault, robbery, or worse follow too often, yet reports stay low because trust in systems is eroded. No wonder many turn to drugs — methamphetamine, fentanyl, whatever numbs the cold and the trauma. Substances dull the chill seeping into bones and quiet the fear of the next approach. But they also heighten risks, impairing judgment in already perilous situations. This isn’t unique to Parksville, but our small-town isolation amplifies it. In Vancouver’s Downtown Eastside, predators have long trolled for vulnerable women, leading to infamous cases like missing-persons inquiries. On Vancouver Island, surveys of unhoused women reveal rampant sexual violence due to lack of safe spaces. In Victoria or Nanaimo, similar stories emerge: youth trading favours for a couch, only to face exploitation. A McCreary Centre Society study on street-involved boys in Western Canada highlighted how young men, often overlooked, face sexual exploitation too — coerced or desperate in ways society ignores because it challenges stereotypes. Yet in Parksville, with its affluent image, the silence is deafening. Community “not in my backyard” resistance has stalled permanent solutions for years. As of this winter 2025 season, Parksville has no scheduled overnight shelter, according to statements from BC Housing and local reports. Past efforts, like church-rotated cold-weather mats or temporary warming centres, have been inconsistent or closed amid community pushback over location and funding. Thankfully some churches do step in heroically during cold snaps, like Oceanside Community Church, opening as a warming spot, but it’s patchwork. Extreme-weather shelters — those rare lifelines — open only when temperatures plummet to near-freezing with rain or wind, or during severe alerts. In recent years, these shelters have activated sporadically, often too late or with limited beds, leaving dozens on the streets even during arctic outflows. How bad must it get before a door opens without bureaucracy? This lack of response isn’t just inconvenient — it’s lethal in its indifference. Point-in-time homeless counts in the Oceanside area (Parksville-Qualicum) hover around 90-100 people, many of them long-term residents who’ve lived here for years but fallen through the cracks of soaring rents, mental health crises, addiction, or job loss. Daytime warming centres exist in some seasons, but come nightfall, options vanish. No motel-voucher programs, no reliable emergency beds. Citizens can’t afford $150+ for a room when minimum-wage jobs barely cover food. The Regional District and task forces talk, but nights pass without action. And so, the horrors unfold after dark. How can we, as a community, face ourselves knowing this happens blocks from our warm homes? Tourists sip coffee at cafes while, nearby, a young woman negotiates her body heat against frostbite. A teen boy, after couch-surfing fails, accepts a ride that could end in horror. Parksville prides itself on compassion — beach cleanups, food drives. But for the unhoused at night, compassion is absent. Predators thrive because vulnerability is guaranteed. Women and young men pay the highest price, their dignity eroded one freezing night at a time. It’s time to demand better: year-round low-barrier shelters, expanded supportive housing like the successful Orca Place model, and real extreme-weather responses that prioritize lives. Meanwhile, Manna Homeless Society is doing its very best searching the Parksville streets at night trying to locate these vulnerable people and offer them warmth and safety. This crisis shames us all. If we ignore it, the streets will claim more than warmth — they’ll claim lives, one desperate transaction at a time. Parksville, wake up before another winter buries our humanity in the cold. Thanks for your kindness and compassion. Robin Campbell Manna Homeless Society Monetary donations can be made by e-transfer to: MannaParksville@gmail.com Or cheques can be sent to: Manna Homeless Society PO Box 389 Errington BC VOR 1VO

Golden sandy beaches stretching for miles under a mild Vancouver Island sun. Rathtrevor Beach Provincial Park alive with families building sandcastles in summer, eagles soaring overhead, and the distant call of waves crashing against the shore. Parksville, British Columbia – population just over 13,000 – is routinely ranked among Canada’s most beautiful small cities. Retirees flock here for the quiet charm, the world-famous sandcastle competitions, the pristine parks, and the promise of a peaceful coastal life. It’s the kind of place where real estate ads boast “paradise found.” But as Christmas lights begin twinkling on storefronts along Highway 19A this December, and families gather for turkey dinners and carols at the Parksville Community Centre, a growing shadow darkens this postcard-perfect scene. Just beyond the manicured lawns and oceanfront condos, hundreds of our neighbours – yes, our neighbours – are fighting for survival in the cold, wet Island winter. And in Parksville there is no extreme shelter or no emergency shelter. No warming centre open every night. No extreme weather refuge when the rain turns to ice and the wind howls off the Strait of Georgia. Not one. This isn’t hyperbole. As of this winter 2025-2026, The municipality hasn’t approved or funded an overnight shelter, despite provincial offers from BC Housing to cover the costs. During recent cold snaps, the city has extended hours at public buildings for daytime warming and handed out a few hundred self-heating meals – gestures that are kind, but woefully inadequate when temperatures drop below freezing at night. Limited extreme-weather pop-up spaces at local churches have seen pitifully low turnout, often because people living rough are too frightened, too proud, or too far gone to seek them out. The result? A homelessness crisis that is exploding quietly in one of Canada’s most affluent retirement havens. Point-in-time counts – which everyone agrees undercount the true scale – showed 103 people unhoused in the Oceanside region in 2023, up from 87 just two years earlier. Advocates say the real number is far higher now, swollen by skyrocketing rents (vacancy rates hovering near zero), job losses in tourism and service industries, mental health struggles exacerbated by the pandemic, and an influx of seniors whose fixed incomes no longer cover Island living costs. How do people end up here, in a cul-de-sac of despair in Canada’s “happiest retirement community”? Meet “John” (name changed), a 68-year-old former construction worker who moved to Parksville five years ago dreaming of beachside retirement. A fixed pension that seemed ample in the Interior suddenly vanished into $2,000+ monthly rents. Evicted after falling behind, he now sleeps in his rusted 1998 van parked in supermarket lots, moving every few hours to avoid bylaws. “I worked my whole life,” he told a local advocate. “Now I’m invisible.” Or “Sarah,” a single mother in her 40s who lost her waitressing job when tourism dipped. With no family support and waitlists for subsidized housing stretching years, she and her teenage son pitched a tent in a wooded areas near Rathtrevor – until bylaws forced them out. Now they bounce between couches and her car, the boy missing school because there’s nowhere safe to store their belongings. And then there are the extremes no one wants to believe happen in Parksville: People burrowing into storm-water culverts under highways for shelter from the rain. Huddling in dumpsters behind strip malls for a sliver of warmth from rotting garbage. Makeshift tents in community parks, soaked through after weeks of Island downpours, leading to trench foot, hypothermia, and worse. Hospitals report repeated admissions for exposure-related illnesses – one man in his 50s spent 10 days in care last year after frostbite set in. Mental health crises spike as isolation deepens; overdoses from fentanyl-laced street drugs claim lives that might have been saved with stable housing and support. This is the devastation when a community turns away. Loneliness gnaws deeper than the cold – no holiday lights to cheer you, no family dinner, just the sound of festive music drifting from homes you’ll never enter. Spiritual brokenness follows: “Where is God in this?” one unhoused woman asked a church outreach worker, tears freezing on her cheeks. Health crumbles – untreated infections, worsening addiction, suicide attempts. And society pays the hidden bill: ambulance calls, hospital beds, police time, all far costlier than prevention. Parksville’s city council has long pointed to supportive housing like Orca Place (52 units opened in 2019) as proof they’re “doing something.” But supportive housing is for those lucky enough to qualify and wait years – not for the acute crisis on our streets. When provincial funding for shelters is repeatedly offered, local leaders demur, citing “community concerns,” zoning issues, or past “chaos” from limited trials. In 2025, council even voted against reinstating a liaison to the Oceanside Task Force on Homelessness after reported tensions. Critics call it NIMBYism dressed as prudence: Protect property values and tourism brochures at all costs, even human ones. Christmas is supposed to be the season of joy, generosity, and “goodwill toward all.” In Parksville, it’s becoming the cruelest reminder of exclusion. While children unwrap gifts under twinkling trees, our unhoused neighbours unwrap another night of terror – wondering if this rain-soaked, freezing darkness will be their last. This story is unbelievable. But it’s true. And it doesn’t have to be. It’s time for Parksville to live up to its beauty – not just the beaches, but the heart we’re capable of. Demand action from council. Support groups like Manna Homeless Society and the Oceanside Task Force. Volunteer, donate, speak up. Because in a city this blessed, no one should die alone in a culvert. If you or someone you know needs help: contact Manna Homeless Society. For immediate crisis, call 9-8-8. Paradise is only paradise when it includes everyone. Clothing donations can be made at the Manna Storage Building, located across the parking lot from the Wildlife Recovery Centre at 1240 Leffler Road in Errington. We have very limited storage space so please call (or text) Robin at 250.248.0845 first regarding any items that you wish to donate. Monetary donations can be made by e-transfer to: MannaParksville@gmail.com   Or  cheques can be sent to: Manna Homeless Society P.O.  Box  389 Errington BC VOR 1VO

Thank you so much to the hard work by the HUB INTERNATIONAL Parksville team on their Winter Clothing Drive, which was evident by the pile of donations given to the Manna Homeless Society. In addition, personal donations were made by the team that included such high-demand items as women’s sanitary products, protein shakes, hand warmers and granola bars, which are so greatly appreciated.   Sarah Olsen and Bonnie Round present these beautiful gifts from Hub international Insurance, Parksville, to Raquel Molina from MANNA homeless Society (middle). Having held the event on their day off and involving spouses' participation, we are very grateful to them for holding this clothing drive. Their donations will go a long way for those who are facing cold, wet nights without food and shelter. Manna cannot understate how powerful an impact the generosity of Oceanside residents has on those experiencing hard times. Thank you to the HUB INTERNATIONAL Parksville team and everyone who supported their Winter Clothing Drive.