This is something I had not done before--volunteer to help the homeless. Sure, a donation here and there, running a food drive or buying a basket of groceries at Thanksgiving or Christmas... but actually volunteering to be there?
I had listened all too frequently to the people in my life who told me I "shouldn't" do things like this. That I couldn't even get done what I needed to do for my family, much less volunteer. I listened to someone who spoke from a position of fear, who said that there could be danger involved--illnesses or even that people could get violent. That I owed it to him and to my daughter, not to help.
A year ago, the day after my mother-in-law died, I took her coats from her closet. They were still in the cleaner's bags. It was the coldest day of that year, and I thought if I left the coats at the church, they would not get to the people they needed to on that cold, cold day. So I went to the hypothermia unit for the first time.
I parked in the wrong parking lot and walked all the way around the building before I found the right door. The wind was strong in my face as I walked, and it was snowing. I found myself thinking, "It's so cold! I don't want to be out here in this!" And I heard myself, really heard myself. How could I even think that, when just around the corner, there were several people waiting for the door to open. Just waiting patiently, quietly... some talking, some smoking, some just standing there shivering.
One man in a hoodie. A hoodie in this weather. He was about the right size. What I was carrying was a female coat, but fairly unisex, and it was a very warm coat. It was the perfect fit.
I would come back to help, I thought. No matter if I felt uncomfortable, I would do it. And I did, a year later.
What's going to be easy to heat up and keep warm? What's going to be nutritious and strengthening? What will taste good and be comforting on a very cold day? All the decisions made, the food prepared, laid out on the table, serving gloves and hats donned. Let the line begin. I felt uncomfortable at first, not knowing what to expect or what the routine was. Wondering if they resented me for having what I needed when they didn't.
The reality: People politely asked for what they needed. They were grateful for what they were given. A piece of chicken, mixed vegetables, a baked potato wrapped up warm in foil. A little applesauce and a little conversation. A man who asked for the vegetables but not the potato. Another who asked for just the potato. One who came back and told me the applesauce just hit the spot perfectly. A veteran who told me laughingly that a little cornbread was what that chicken needed, yes, ma'am, chicken always went better with a little cornbread. I agreed with him and thought, next time I'd remember that.
Maybe food goes better with a little love. A human hand, not just to write a check or buy some groceries, but to actually put a spoonful of vegetables on a plate. A heart to see the faces of the people you're serving. An understanding of the person you're helping as a person, not just a faceless stomach.
James 2:14-16--What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if someone claims to have faith but has no deeds? Can such faith save them? Suppose a brother or a sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to them, “Go in peace; keep warm and well fed,” but does nothing about their physical needs, what good is it?