Dear Friends, Community Leaders, Businesses, and Potential Partners in Oceanside, I write to you today with a heavy heart, but also with a spark of unbreakable hope—one that I believe we can fan into a bright flame together. Last winter, I met Tom on a bench near the Parksville waterfront. He was once a skilled tradesman who raised a family here, paid his taxes, and coached minor hockey. A job loss, mounting medical bills, and a string of bad luck left him sleeping in his truck, then under bridges, then nowhere at all. The cold bit deep, hunger gnawed constantly, and the isolation—the quiet shame of feeling invisible in the community he loved—nearly broke him. Tom is not alone. In Parksville, Qualicum Beach, and across the Oceanside region, too many of our neighbours—veterans, seniors, families, young people starting out—face the same crushing reality of homelessness or the constant fear of losing their homes. It tears at the fabric of our community, leaving empty storefronts, strained services, and a shared sense of helplessness. Yet there is hope. Real, proven hope. Manna Homeless Society has served the most vulnerable in Oceanside for years. We know these individuals by name, understand the complex challenges they face—addiction, mental health struggles, trauma, economic hardship—and we know how to help with compassion, respect, and practical support. We have built trust, delivered meals, provided emergency aid, and walked alongside people as they rebuild their lives. But we also know that true, lasting change requires more than temporary fixes. It requires a place to call home, meaningful work, and a supportive community. That is why Manna is working tirelessly to acquire land in the coming years—a peaceful piece of property where we can create a transformative community for those experiencing homelessness or at risk. Picture this: small, dignified trailers providing safe, private homes; gardens and fields where residents grow fresh food for themselves and the community; meaningful jobs tending the land, maintaining the property, and contributing to shared meals and markets. This is not just housing—it is healing. It is purpose. It is dignity restored. We have already saved funds toward this goal, but it is not enough yet. We need partners—public-spirited individuals, businesses, faith groups, foundations, and local governments—who share our vision to make this dream a reality for Oceanside. This model works. It has transformed lives elsewhere, and it can do the same here. In Austin, Texas, Community First! Village spans 51 acres and provides permanent homes in tiny houses and RVs for hundreds of formerly chronically homeless neighbours. Residents tend community gardens, work in on-site micro-enterprises, create art, and support one another. Once isolated and struggling, many now thrive with stability, friendships, and pride in their contributions. The village has become a national model, proving that land-based, community-focused housing ends cycles of homelessness while building stronger neighbourhoods. Closer to home, in Fredericton, New Brunswick, the 12 Neighbours community—built through private and community investment—offers tiny homes that restore hope and dignity to people who once had nowhere to go. Residents describe it as the first place they have felt truly seen and valued. And programs like the Homeless Garden Project in California show the power of farming: participants experiencing homelessness gain paid training, grow organic food, and find purpose and healing through meaningful work on the land—skills that lead to lasting employment and self-sufficiency. These examples are not distant dreams—they are proven realities. With the right land and the right partnerships, Oceanside can create something even better: a community tailored to our region’s needs, producing local food, offering jobs, reducing strain on emergency services, and giving people like Tom a real path forward. Imagine the impact: fewer people on our streets, safer parks and downtowns, fresh produce supporting local food security, and formerly homeless neighbours becoming contributing members of our community again. Parksville and Qualicum Beach would lead the way in compassionate, effective care—one that lifts everyone. Manna Homeless Society is ready. We are established, respected, and deeply knowledgeable about what works here. We just need that piece of land—and your partnership to get there. Will you join us? Whether through financial support, land contributions, in-kind services, grants, or simply spreading the word, your involvement can change lives. Together, we can turn sadness into strength and build a brighter future for all of Oceanside. Please reach out to me at Manna Homeless Society to learn more or discuss how we can partner. Let’s make this hope a reality—together. With gratitude and optimism, Robin Campbell Manna Homeless Society Parksville, British Columbia

In the quiet coastal towns of Parksville and Qualicum Beach, where the Salish Sea kisses ancient shores and cedar forests whisper secrets to the wind, something extraordinary is stirring. It is not the work of the flawless or the mighty. It is the work of the Creator, who has always chosen the cracked vessels, the stumbling hearts, the ones the world calls failures, and filled them with living water until they overflow. Long ago, a fisherman named Peter denied his Lord three times before the rooster crowed. A murderer named Moses stuttered when he spoke. A persecutor named Paul once breathed threats against the innocent. Yet the Creator lifted them up, dusted off their shame, and used their trembling hands to shape history. And so it is today, in these small Vancouver Island communities, where the Creator is doing it again. He looked upon the broken—the homeless sleeping under bridges, the addicted wandering empty streets, the mentally afflicted crying out in silence, the poor who feel invisible—and He did not turn away. Instead, He gathered a handful of equally imperfect people: recovering addicts, grieving parents, a weary pastor, ordinary folks who know what it is to fall and fail. Out of these unlikely souls, He knit together Manna Homeless Society—His voice for the voiceless, His hands reaching into the margins. Manna is not a polished organization born of boardrooms and strategic plans. It is a miracle born of obedience. The Creator has whispered a commission into their hearts: Go. Find land. Build shelter. Plant gardens and greenhouses. Give My children not just a bed, but dignity. Put their hands to meaningful work—tending soil, growing food, watching life spring from seed. Let them heal as they labour. Let them taste purpose again. This is no small dream. It is a kingdom vision: a place where the formerly homeless become the caretakers of the land, where rows of tomatoes and kale feed both body and soul, where greenhouses bloom with hope in winter’s grip. A community where people stay as long as they need—sheltered, fed, valued—until they are ready to step back into the world whole. But visions this beautiful do not rise on wishes alone. They rise on partnership. The Creator has always worked through community. He sends the ravens to feed Elijah, but He also sends the widow to bake the bread. He parts the Red Sea, but He tells Moses to raise the staff. He heals the paralyzed man, but He waits for four friends to lower him through the roof. So it is with Manna’s land. This dream will become bricks and soil and shelter only when partners step forward. When landowners feel stirred to release property for kingdom purposes. When contractors offer skills at cost. When gardeners donate seeds and knowledge. When churches open their wallets and their hearts. When businesses sponsor greenhouses. When everyday people—retirees in Parksville, families in Qualicum, believers across the island—say, “Here am I. Send me.” Every contribution matters. Gifts of money towards the land, A thousand-dollar gift builds walls. A hundred-dollar gift buys tools. A bag of soil, a packet of seeds, an hour of labor—nothing is too small in the hands of the Creator. He multiplies loaves and fishes; He will multiply these offerings too. To the hesitant: remember that the Creator is not looking for perfection in His partners, only willingness. He will use your small yes to shelter someone who has never known safety. He will use your gift to put calloused hands back to meaningful work. He will use your prayer to break chains of addiction and despair. In Parksville and Qualicum, a generation of the broken is waiting to be made whole. The land is waiting to be claimed. The gardens are waiting to grow. Will you be the partner the Creator uses to make this vision real? The story is not finished. It is being written right now—by imperfect people, for imperfect people, through the perfect love of a Creator who wastes nothing. Step in. The harvest is coming. 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

Raquel’s Outreach Ambulance Brings Healing to Oceanside's Streets… Where the homeless population faces daily battles with health and hardship, Raquel, a dedicated Licensed Practical Nurse (LPN) and footcare specialist, is bringing accessible care from the back of an ambulance. Operating as a mobile outreach unit, this innovative service targets vulnerable individuals, providing essential foot care and basic health support without the barriers of traditional clinics. “It’s about meeting people where they are,” says Raquel, who draws on her expertise to deliver immediate and preventive care directly to those in need. Raquel’s ambulance serves as a pop-up clinic on wheels, equipped for autonomous services aligned with BC’s nursing regulations. She conducts thorough health assessments for stable conditions, identifying issues like dehydration or minor infections that plague those living rough. Specializing in foot care, she focuses on wound prevention—cleaning, dressing, and monitoring blisters, skin irritations, abrasions common from ill-fitting shoes or exposure—and helping prevent infections that could lead to hospitalization. Providing clean, dry socks and boots complete the need of caring for feet that find no refuge in shelter. Beyond feet, Raquel supports and screens for health issues, and monitors vital signs. She offers nutrition counselling, hygiene assistance, and coordinates referrals to shelters or food banks. In emergencies, she’s trained in CPR, Naloxone use, and basic first aid, and is equipped with required medical supplies, including an AED. Raquel’s work bridges medical gaps, escalating cases to 911 when necessary. Partnerships with Island Health bolster this effort, supporting mobile units for at-risk groups. Raquel’s story inspires as her timely care and prevention help to bring comfort to the street. As BC grapples with homelessness, Raquel’s services offer hope and compassionate, accessible care, proving small steps can lead to big strides in community health. To support Manna Homeless Society and the ambulance service, 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

In the picturesque communities of Parksville and Qualicum Beach on Vancouver Island, a persistent homelessness crisis is tarnishing the region’s reputation as a retiree’s paradise. Despite a recent point-in-time count showing 94 individuals experiencing homelessness—a slight decline from previous years—the lack of an overnight shelter leaves vulnerable residents exposed to harsh winters. Mayor Doug O’Brien of Parksville and Mayor Teunis Westbroek of Qualicum Beach, along with their councils, continue to deflect responsibility with tired excuses. They tout the area’s prime location, excellent schools with high test scores, walkable neighbourhoods ideal for the elderly, and relatively affordable rents compared to larger cities. But these talking points ring hollow when the homeless line the streets and parks. High rents and low incomes may contribute, as provincial data suggests, but that’s no alibi for local inaction. Issues like mental health struggles and addiction are often blamed, yet the formation of a new Oceanside Homelessness Task Force in August 2025 feels like too little, too late. The fact remains: If your city has people living on the streets, the mayor and council aren’t doing their job. Period. No amount of spin about community amenities can hide this failure. It’s time for real solutions—affordable housing initiatives, expanded shelters, and coordinated support—or step aside. Vancouver Island deserves better than excuses. 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

In Parksville and the Oceanside region, an insidious weapon silences the cries of the homeless: dehumanization. It’s the quiet, vicious process that strips human beings of their dignity, reducing them to “transients,” “addicts,” or “problems” to be swept away. By labeling the unhoused as less than human—lazy choices, moral failures, or invisible nuisances—comfortable residents and indifferent leaders absolve themselves of responsibility. No need for an all-weather shelter when “those people” don’t deserve one. This calculated cruelty works brilliantly. Call them “encampment dwellers” or blame their “lifestyle,” and suddenly, leaving fellow Canadians to freeze or become soaked to the skin living in tents, vehicles, or doorways becomes acceptable. No overnight shelter exists here in 2026, despite BC Housing funds sitting unused and repeated pleas being ignored. The result? People exposed to Vancouver Island’s relentless rain and cold grow desperately ill—pneumonia, hypothermia, infections—flooding already strained hospitals with preventable emergencies. Others die quietly, their deaths a statistic, not a tragedy. And who bears the unbearable weight? Organizations like MANNA Homeless Society stretched to breaking with emergency food, clothing, and desperate outreach. MANNA’s volunteers scramble to fill voids left by civic failure, battling burnout while picking up the pieces of shattered lives. Hidden homeless—seniors, women, working poor—vanish into vehicles or shadows, their humanity erased to preserve Parksville’s polished facade. This isn’t compassion fatigue; it’s willful blindness. Dehumanization lets leaders dodge accountability, NIMBY voices block solutions, and a community pretend suffering doesn’t touch them. But it does. Every untreated illness, every preventable death, erodes us all. Parksville: stop dehumanizing the vulnerable. Demand an all-weather shelter now—before more lives are sacrificed to apathy. Robin Campbell To support 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

To Whom This May Concern, I write this letter with a heavy heart, sickened by what we’ve become, yet clinging to the faint hope that these words might pierce the darkness we’ve wrapped around ourselves. We call ourselves humans—a title rooted in the earth itself, from the Latin humanus, tied to humus, the soil, the ground we walk on. It reminds us we are earthly beings, formed from dust, meant to be humble stewards of this beautiful blue planet. But that name feels like a hollow echo now. There is another name awaiting us, the one we truly are when we align with our divine essence: children of the Creator, or divine sparks, luminous souls made in the image of infinite Love. We were never meant to be mere “humans” scrambling in the dirt; we are eternal beings of light, called to reflect the Creator’s boundless compassion. Yet we’ve strayed so far into the shadows that we’ve forgotten our true nature entirely. Consider the formula for love, so simple, so profound, drawn from ancient wisdom: Ask, and it shall be given to you; seek, and you shall find; knock, and the door shall be opened unto you. These are not passive suggestions—they are active, persistent commands. Keep asking with an open heart, and provision flows. Keep seeking with genuine intent, and truth reveals itself. Keep knocking with faith and persistence, and barriers fall. Apply this formula earnestly, and love trickles down—not as a trickle, but as a flood. It builds communities where no one hungers, shelters the homeless, heals the sick, and lifts the afflicted. In a world of such abundance—vast lands for growing food, even in our own yards; enough resources to feed, house, and clothe every soul—love would transform scarcity into plenty. The end result? A heaven on earth: harmonious societies, where empathy reigns, children thrive without fear, and the planet blooms in shared stewardship. Joy multiplies, divisions heal, and we live as true reflections of the Creator’s light. But oh, how we’ve chosen the opposite. We’ve followed a twisted formula for crashing and burning, the formula of no love: Ignore, and it shall be withheld; hoard, and you shall never find; shut the door, and it shall remain locked. We ignore the cries of the suffering, hoard wealth in the hands of the few, and bolt the gates against the stranger. The filthy, greedy elite allow the poor to sleep on cold streets while empty mansions stand vacant and shelters go underfunded. Corporations rake in billions while children starve in plain sight. We wage wars over resources we already have in excess, pollute the air and waters that sustain us, and turn a blind eye to the afflicted because compassion would cost us comfort. The consequences are immense: broken families, rising despair, mental anguish epidemics, environmental collapse accelerating toward catastrophe. The stench is unbearable—greed, indifference, exploitation—a foul rot that chokes the air we breathe. How can every individual live with themselves? We’ve created hell on earth, and it’s almost impossible because this planet is a masterpiece of provision. The Creator gave us everything: fertile soil that yields endless harvests, oceans teeming with life, forests that purify and shelter, renewable energy in sun, wind, and water. Seasons cycle in perfect rhythm, ecosystems self-regulate in awe-inspiring balance. True hell should be barren, devoid of beauty or hope—but here, beauty surrounds us in every sunrise, every child’s laugh, every blooming flower. We’ve had to work deliberately, relentlessly, against this abundance to manufacture suffering. We’ve distanced ourselves from the Creator, chasing illusions of power, money, and control, until we’ve plunged into darkness. It’s black where we are—no light in sight—because we’ve extinguished it ourselves, preferring ashes to embrace. We are the canary in the coal mine, gasping as the toxic fumes of our own making rise. The ultra-rich barricade themselves in fortresses of luxury, while the very poor huddle in despair, forgotten. Lines have blurred; men and women alike have grown weak, passive, complicit. Where are the voices of courage? We sit back and allow this to fester until the whole thing burns—cities in flames from unrest, ecosystems in collapse, societies fractured beyond repair. Ashes will be all that’s left: a scorched earth, empty thrones of wealth, echoes of what could have been. Yet the formula for love remains right there, unchanging. We know it. We’ve always known it. Why do we run from it? Why self-destruct when paradise is within reach? Wake up. Ask. Seek. Knock. Before the darkness consumes us entirely. With sorrow and urgent hope, A fellow soul in the shadows, longing for light Robin Campbell

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!