WHAT does hope look like?

Sometimes, it looks like a steaming cup of coffee offered on a cold night.

Sometimes, it’s a laugh shared over a Dad joke on a street corner.

For me, hope has often looked like a simple red shirt – the Rosies shirt – worn by volunteers who choose presence over judgment and friendship over indifference.

As I step down after seven years as a director with Rosies – Friends on the Street, I find myself reflecting on a journey that began long before board meetings and strategic plans.

For 13 years, I’ve worn the red Rosies shirt as a volunteer – first as a team leader in Cairns and Brisbane, then as a team member at Wacol Youth Detention, and now on the Gold Coast.

As an adult, I’ve been fortunate to serve for around 30 years – starting with the Vinnies soup vans.

Everyone has a story –  the working poor, people fleeing domestic violence and those experiencing relational poverty – social isolation.

While coffee, tea, and milo are served, our purpose is presence – recognising the dignity of the person standing, sitting, or sometimes dancing in front of us.

Sometimes that presence comes with a laugh.

I’m a tragic for Dad jokes (yes, as a woman, that makes me a “faux pa”).

One patron loves to test me with the same joke: “What’s black, white, and red all over?” Answer: “A newspaper.”

Some of our patrons may or may not read the newspaper and some may not read the Bible, but they will always read us – the volunteers.

Rosies operates under the auspices of the Oblates of Mary Immaculate, founded by St Eugene de Mazenod, who urged: “We must spare no effort to extend the Saviour’s work.”

That call echoes Mark 10:45: “The Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve…”

Our task appears simple, but the older I am the more profound it becomes –  to serve with authenticity, humility and without judgment.

As St Teresa of Kolkata reminded us: “If you judge people, you have no time to love them.”

Patrons are perceptive; they know when service is genuine.

It’s a privilege to wear the red Rosies shirt.

Patrons recognise it and respond because it signals that someone sees them, listens to them, and values them.

The November 2025 AGM marked the end of my time on the board.

Reflecting on this time, I was filled with gratitude.

At the start of my tenure, I felt torn. I’m a big fan of St Ignatius and Ignatian spirituality, and I’ve also admired St Francis and the Franciscan way.

Was I betraying Ignatius and Francis by falling in love with the Oblate charism?

Reading more about St Eugene reassured me – he was deeply influenced by St Ignatius, and both Franciscans and Oblates share a spirit of simplicity, humility and service to the poor.

In short, there was no betrayal – rather friendship with multiple saints. Catholic dilemma solved!

Serving on the board was a gift.

I’m thankful to those who welcomed me and challenged me in this space, and to peers and staff who brought diverse skills and perspectives.

The occasional ‘robust conversation’ never detracted from a united sense of mission.

I remain in awe of our 1600 volunteers who give so freely and with such heart.

Recently, I nominated an extraordinary branch co-ordinator for an award who has given over 30,000 hours across 24 years.

Such are the people who live the Rosies “daring” spirit.

That’s the kind of quiet heroism that sustains Rosies.

Being a Rosies member helps me be a better human, more specifically it has encouraged me to:

• Listen deeply as people share their stories – a skill that’s enriched my research work too.
• Practice patience, when change doesn’t come as quickly as I’d hoped.
• Live gratitude, for simple things: a car that runs, a hot shower, shoes in a cupboard, and a safe home. Outreach reminds me these are not guaranteed.

The Oblate Constitution reminds us that service is never one-way; there is a mutual giving between the poor and those who serve.

I experience that truth every time I am on outreach.

Thank you to the Oblate Fathers who sit on the board, attend outreach, and guide the spiritual formation of the organisation.

At the AGM, I was surprised to receive Life Membership – a recognition for extraordinary contributions as an individual.

For years, I’ve admired those who earned this honour, amazed by their generosity and deep love for our Patrons.

I feel like an imposter among such company.

When they announced this, I was touched they mentioned that my parents who took my siblings and me (there are 10 children in the family) to a homeless men’s shelter Christmas Day.

Doing these things was not out of character for my parents; as children, it was normal for us assist doing bread runs and fruit runs around the area.

As I continue volunteering on the Gold Coast, I look forward to seeing Rosies grow strategically over the coming years.

The need remains great, but so does the hope – hope stitched into every red shirt, hope poured into every cup of coffee, hope shared in every conversation on the street.

Indeed, every wearer of the red shirt is a pilgrim of hope – carrying Christ’s love to the margins, one encounter at a time.

As we like to say at Rosies:

O Jesus, Make our hearts so human, That others may feel at home with us, So like Yours, That others may feel at home with You.

Dr Clare Burns is an Assistant Professor at Bond University