I have been a Chef for almost 20 years and have worked in the restaurant/hospitality industry for 31 years. The industry is notoriously known for its “work hard, play hard” philosophy. The shifts are generally long as well as physically and mentally demanding. A lot of workers turn to substances when the shift ends to try and decompress and numb the anxiety, including myself.

For a long time, I thought fun and substances were basically the same thing. Not exactly—but close enough that I didn’t question it.

Celebrations meant using. Stress meant using. Boredom meant using. Even happiness somehow circled back to it. I told myself I was having fun. And sometimes, even in the moment, it felt that way. But the part I didn’t talk about—the part that mattered more—was what came the next morning

There are two notable references to the mustard seed in New Testament scripture that feel relevant to this Street paper and the world right now. One passage, which uses a metaphor for Heaven (Matthew 13:31-32), describes a farmer who plants the smallest of seeds, and yet it grows into a big tree that holds all the birds of the air. The other reference states that faith, even the size of a mustard seed, can move mountains and accomplish the seemingly impossible.

Dear reader,

After a two-year hiatus, I am SO excited to say that Mustard Seed Mountain, West Virginia’s first Street Paper, is back! 

My name is Niamh Coomey and I ended up in Wheeling a year and some odd months ago through a series of pretty random circumstances and decisions – just as any of us end up anywhere, I suppose.

Put simply, the city’s shutting down of the East Wheeling encampment and its forced evictions of dozens of residents who were not provided with any practical alternatives has been wholly unnecessary, senselessly destructive and totally unjustifiable.

Is our country truly full of dangerous people who are better locked away?

It was easy at that age to designate who was “good” and who was “bad,” a narrative which I carried into adulthood until I encountered a “criminal” in my life who flipped that understanding on its head: the criminal, Jesus.

There is a cliche that says, "Respect is earned, not given." However, there is another side of that coin – human dignity – which recognizes that all persons hold an intrinsic value merely for being a human being.

As ideas started forming in our minds, we realized there were more than enough stories about women to fill an entire paper.

I have found…that seeds of faith need two things: to be planted, and time to grow. This has been the story with Mustard Seed Mountain street newspaper.

Looking in a mirror and recognizing our own humanity is hard enough. We ask ourselves, “Who am I? What am I? What is the purpose of me, of this world?”