Reporter's notebook: Reg Sherren encounters homelessness and hunger

I know how lucky I am, but every once in a while that fact is brought sharply into focus never more sothan on this assignment.

We were heading into northern Ontarioto meet with Darlene Necan, ahomeless native woman who was trying to help herself be not homeless as she put it.

• First Nations woman told to stop building her own house
• Homeless First Nation woman builds her own cabin
• Homeless woman charged for building her own home

We left Dryden, Ont., at eight in the morning, heading up past Sioux Lookout on ice-coveredroads through the bush. There were long stretches of silver birch and frozen bog, lakes stillunfrozen, the condensed vapour crystallizing as it rose above the water. It felt like 30 with the windchill.

On the way out of town, we pulled into a sandwich shop. I bought a half dozen sandwiches, thinkingthere wouldbe nowhere to eat up there, and with hours and hours ahead of us, you never know.

Four hours later, we arrived at Savant Lake,a place where the tracks cross the road. In summer and fall it is paradise for anglers and hunters. Now it was just cold, real cold for November.

There was no cellphone coverage. We started heading up side roads looking for someone to askwhere Darlene mightbe. A young woman spottedus and comes out of a little cabin. Darlene is in that house over there,"she offeredwith a bigfriendly smile.

No mitts in freezing cold

Darlene agreedto take us across the road to a clearing where her parentshome used to be, where herlittle shell of a home was under construction.

It wasfreezing. She hadno mitts, no gloves. She and hersister came back on the train in the middle of the night. Darlene had been given a train ticket toToronto, where people were raising money for her defence. She hasbeen charged with breaches of the Public Lands Act and orderedto stop building a home on what she considers her family's traditional land.

They dragged her belongings to her friends housefrom where the train stopped, about a kilometre away. Hard on my hands, was all she said.

After filming outside, we went to her friends house to do a longer interview. As soon as the camera hitthe heat, it fogged up, as it tends to do.

We sat there in the pleasantbut sparse surroundings, waitingfor the lens to clear.

Then I remembered the sandwiches. I said, I have some sandwiches in the van.Iwould be happy to share them with you while we wait. I had just enough for everyone.

I noticed thatDarlene took a couple of bites, but that was all beforeshe carefully wrapped up the sandwich again. I had devouredmine.You're not hungry?

I eat slow, she said, anddid not eat any more.

We started the interview. She talked about how difficult it had been since her son took his own life andhowshe was trying to help othersand to help herself. But she was clearly despondent and frustrated at her predicament.

I still try to remainhelpful, no matter what situation I am in. I will always look at other peoplessituations before mine, and help them first, she said. I help myself too, but Im more focused on otherpeople, helping them and making it comfortable for them to live."

'I don't eat every day'

Then she said, I dont eat every day. I sometimes eat every second day. Thats just because I dontwant to go to other peoples houses and eat, because I know they struggle to feed their families too sohaving me as an extra mouth, no no, I wont do that, I will try to stay away.

The rest of her carefully wrapped sandwich sat on the table between us.

Inside I felt like an idiot. Irealized the rest of that sandwich may be all there is for her today, maybe tomorrow.

I could feel minein the pit of my stomach. I felt sick. I felt ashamed. We finished our shoot and she wished us well,thanked us even for coming and left us with a smile.

It was a long drive home. I will be seeing that carefullywrapped sandwich on that table for a long time.