Lindsay Windhager is one of the lucky few.

She doesn't have to wake up at the crack of dawn to get her children fed and dressed in time to catch a bus and a train in order to drop her son off at daycare miles from where they live.

She doesn't have to board another bus with her daughter so she can leave her at a different child-care centre. And then make it to work on time so she doesn't risk losing her job.

Or repeat the process after she finishes work in the evening.

For many, that's their slavish routine. Their grim reality. Tough on youngsters. Even harder for their parents.

The Davenport-Perth resident now has both her children enrolled in child care, partially subsidized by the city of Toronto.

She doesn't need to stay in touch by phone because she's likely to see her friends in the streets, on the sidewalks or in the parks.

They stop and chat. Make dinner plans. Catch up on the news.

It's like a large family. When residents need help, they know they can count on someone to support them.

For the past 40 years, Sandra Marcok has lived in the Trinity-Spadina community and befriended many people, particularly the vulnerable.

For 27 years, she's lived in a Toronto Community Housing building on Sullivan Street. The same building where she raised her daughter who's now a mother too.

Close to Grange Park, the Art Gallery of Ontario and University Settlement Recreation Centre.

"It feels like a small town," she says.

Three years ago, life was good. He had a nice job, paid his taxes and contributed to the local economy.

Unable to work, his savings ran dry. Richard Dalton was living in poverty, treading dangerously close to homelessness. He relied on Ontario disability benefits to keep a roof over his head.

"I never thought this could happen," he says.

He's ashamed to admit that he thought that slipping into poverty was something that happened to others.

Never to him.

He now realizes it could happen to anyone.

AIDS service organizations, local food programs, libraries and local community centres kept him afloat. Health promotion programs helped him rebuild his life.

He's been an alcoholic since he was 13 years old. It's cost him two families, two homes and countless jobs.

For over 30 years, he worked in sales for a major car dealership. His alcoholism was well-known but overlooked because he did his job well and made a lot of money for his employer.

So he was never offered a chance to enter a treatment program or provided any type of assistance to deal with his problems.

But when his second wife couldn't put up with the drinking any more she left him. "She'd finally had enough of me too," he says.

Then in 2007, after two failed marriages, he left his job as a car salesman.

Thomas Caldwell had hit rock bottom. Or so he thought.

It almost seems as if they were never here in the first place. The park is empty except for the people cutting through the grounds on its concrete paths. 

Birds fly overhead as squirrels scamper up tree trunks and rummage through wood-chipped gardens. 

Christmas lights remain wrapped around tree trunks and their limbs. The winter sun peers through naked tree branches and shines brightly on a park that nearly 500 people called home for 40 days last fall. 

The muddy lawn has been replaced with a beautiful new field of grass. The shadows have grown longer.

People shuffle through the park as if Occupy Toronto never existed. 

Injured workers, community activists and trade unionists gathered Friday outside the Ministry of Labour at 400 University Avenue in Toronto, calling for better treatment for injured workers by employers, the government and the Workplace Safety and Insurance Board (WSIB).

"The poverty of injured workers is a shame," said Marion Endicott, injured worker activist and community legal worker. 

Especially since the compensation system was established to prevent injured workers from living a life of poverty.

In 1915, injured workers gave up the right to sue their employers in exchange for a compensation system that would allow injured workers to live a poverty-free, dignified life.

Ending the long-gun registry will have a major impact on public safety, a panel of public safety experts and victims of gun violence said on Wednesday at a press conference in Toronto.

The Coalition for Gun Control, an alliance of more than 300 organizations, believes that the Conservative dominated Standing Committee on Public Safety and National Security (SECU) is deliberately ignoring the pleas of police, victim groups and public safety experts by recommending that the House of Commons proceed with Bill C-19 unchanged.

The third reading vote to send the proposed law to the Senate could come soon.

The Occupy Toronto Food Team seized the basement at 238 Queen Street West on Sunday so they can continue serving 1,000 free meals a day to homeless and poor people.

According to the Food Team, the one-storey heritage site, known as St. Patrick Market, is owned by the City of Toronto and leased through 2039 to George Friedman and Queen Street Patrick Market Inc.

The agreement has been in place since June 15, 1989.

"The basement of the Market is designated for use by non-profit groups such as Occupy Toronto or the previous occupants Food Share," said the Food Team in a statement released Monday afternoon.

Almost 100 people crowded into Moss Park on Saturday to rally against the proposed cuts to city services and the recommended sell-off of over 1,000 units of social housing.

On Monday, city council will likely bring forward a budget with the deepest cuts to public services Toronto has ever seen, to counterbalance an anticipated shortfall of close to $800 million.

Libraries, child-care facilities, homeless shelters and community centres will probably be hit hardest.

In the Downtown East, the Parliament Street library is at risk of closing on Sundays and faces reduced hours during the week. Toronto Community Housing Corporation (TCHC) apartment buildings and houses are in danger of being sold.

More than 100 people assembled in St. James Park on National Housing Day for a rally to highlight the need for a national housing strategy and bring attention to the growing homelessness problem in Toronto and across the country.

Between 150,000 and 300,000 people are homeless in Canada. Almost 142,000 households are on the waiting list for affordable housing in Ontario.

Canada is the only major industrialized country without a national housing program even though it has signed international treaties guaranteeing housing as a human right. One in nine Canadians will be homeless or face homelessness in their lifetime.