Readers of the Calgary Herald have likely discovered Richard Wagamese. His weekly column, titled “One Native Life,” contains none of the cynicism that typically drenches that newspaper’s editorial pages. Rather, Wagamese uses his column to convey hope by telling healing stories from a native perspective.

His latest novel, Ragged Company, is marked by the same compassion and masterful storytelling that make his columns sparkle. The book tells the story of four homeless friends in a nameless city. Amelia One Sky, an Ojibway woman with a calming presence, is the matron of the group, and in the dead of winter she convinces her three friends to join her on a trip to the movies. They go not so much for entertainment, but to escape a murderous cold snap. Digger, Timber and Double Dick — the rest of the rounder quartet — agree to the plan, and off they go.

At the movies they meet a burnt-out journalist named Granite. He fumbles awkwardly when Amelia tries to engage him in conversation, but after a few more serendipitous meetings at the movies a friendship blooms. By the time the rounders happen upon a winning lottery ticket, Amelia knows they can trust Granite to help them claim their $13.5 million in winnings. (They can’t claim it themselves because they have no fixed address.)

Wagamese portrays life on the street without a hint of judgment and with a great deal of empathy. Digger drinks hard and regularly curses “Square Johns” who “don’t give a flying fuck.” But as the five movie-lovers grow closer together after the lottery win, all — including Digger — are transformed and forced to confront their pasts. Each is marked with loss and displacement, and together the friends struggle towards healing while discovering how little separates them from each other.

Ragged Company is both tender and grittily authentic. At times the writing is a bit too obvious — characters needlessly spell out what the narrative is already saying — but the story is moving without being sentimental. It all wraps up with a tearjerker of an ending that, while devastating, is ultimately hopeful and beautiful.

Which brings us back to One Native Life (Douglas & McIntyre, 272 pp.), another recently published Wagamese book full of three- to four-page stories about his life as an Ojibway. It’s a memoir of sorts, told in a healing spirit, and the stories are tight, to the point and insightful. For anyone wanting to learn what it’s like to grow up native in modern Canada, Wagamese is a most hospitable guide.