I worked my first shift at the food bank last Friday—sort of a half-day affair, and I am so glad I signed up for this. It's easy and difficult, dull and interesting—it's what you make of it.
I arrived an hour early at the old Salvation Army building and went down to the basement where the food bank is operating even though it isn't a Salvation Army program. There were thirteen volunteers, and we were handed paper grocery sacks and a list of food to put in them—two cans of soup, one can of tuna, two cans of fruit, one box of macaroni and cheese, two cans of vegetables, and a can of baked beans. I take pride in knowing I didn't select a single can of beets for the bags I filled. Separate "family" bags were filled with peanut butter and jelly, pasta, pasta sauce, Jello, and a couple of items from the section of rice and instant potatoes.
Then we were each assigned a station and offered coffee while we waited for the place to open. Some people were to pass out the bags, some were to help carry them outside in the freezing rain, some were to help keep the lines organized. I sat with another woman, a retired school teacher or something, and we helped people fill out their applications. 380 people showed up the week before, but this was the first of the month, and the weather was crappy, so no one knew what to expect. I think we had about 150 people come through the line for emergency food supplies.
You know, you can't peg people as being needy when you pass them on the street. All kinds of people hit on hard times but don't show it when they go out in public. I saw all types at the food bank—raggedy types, dirty types, and types I wouldn't have guessed needed help with getting a few cans of soup and some spaghetti. There with women with styled hair and makeup, spiffy clothes, and lovely hand bags. There were entire families, children included because school was closed for the weather. I knew one of the fathers, a great hard-working man who had recently lost his job. I knew a single woman who was unemployed and had just had surgery so she walked with a cane. There were two Hispanic men brought in by an interpreter who explained there were six needy men living in one house.
People wonder if there are jerks out there who abuse the system and get food when they don't really need the help. But I know what is in these bags. It really is an emergency supply, and not much of it, and I can't imagine anyone faking need in order to go home with this stuff.
During the slow times, I drank coffee and had some enlightening conversations with two workers who live in the local homeless shelter. They were there because they were getting paid, but they were also there because they wanted to help out. One of them had grown up benefiting from the generosity of other people, and he hoped no one complained about what they were getting. When he was a kid, he said, he was always grateful when people gave food to his family. Now he works for a landscaper, and work is hard to come by in the winter.
I live in abundance. Most of us do even if we don't always feel like it, even if we scramble to pay our bills each month. We don't live without heat, we don't go hungry, and our children don't wonder if there will be dinner on the table at the end of the day. But for a lot of people, day-to-day tasks I barely think about are difficult and burdensome, a fact made clear to me at the food bank. That same afternoon I went to the grocery store and filled my cart with what I needed without worrying about paying. I went home to a warm house where the cabinets are full of food, my daughter has everything she needs to thrive, and my husband doesn't have to humble himself to bring home a few cans of soup and some beans.
I know a lot of people make bad choices and find themselves in need from their own doing. I also know that a state of want can hit anyone of us at almost any time. So, while I have plenty, I will try to do what I can, which isn't much, to help out those with less. They'll remind me that even though my shopping cart is full today, tomorrow it may be empty, and I'll need someone to hand me relief until I can work to fill it up again.
I arrived an hour early at the old Salvation Army building and went down to the basement where the food bank is operating even though it isn't a Salvation Army program. There were thirteen volunteers, and we were handed paper grocery sacks and a list of food to put in them—two cans of soup, one can of tuna, two cans of fruit, one box of macaroni and cheese, two cans of vegetables, and a can of baked beans. I take pride in knowing I didn't select a single can of beets for the bags I filled. Separate "family" bags were filled with peanut butter and jelly, pasta, pasta sauce, Jello, and a couple of items from the section of rice and instant potatoes.
Then we were each assigned a station and offered coffee while we waited for the place to open. Some people were to pass out the bags, some were to help carry them outside in the freezing rain, some were to help keep the lines organized. I sat with another woman, a retired school teacher or something, and we helped people fill out their applications. 380 people showed up the week before, but this was the first of the month, and the weather was crappy, so no one knew what to expect. I think we had about 150 people come through the line for emergency food supplies.
You know, you can't peg people as being needy when you pass them on the street. All kinds of people hit on hard times but don't show it when they go out in public. I saw all types at the food bank—raggedy types, dirty types, and types I wouldn't have guessed needed help with getting a few cans of soup and some spaghetti. There with women with styled hair and makeup, spiffy clothes, and lovely hand bags. There were entire families, children included because school was closed for the weather. I knew one of the fathers, a great hard-working man who had recently lost his job. I knew a single woman who was unemployed and had just had surgery so she walked with a cane. There were two Hispanic men brought in by an interpreter who explained there were six needy men living in one house.
People wonder if there are jerks out there who abuse the system and get food when they don't really need the help. But I know what is in these bags. It really is an emergency supply, and not much of it, and I can't imagine anyone faking need in order to go home with this stuff.
During the slow times, I drank coffee and had some enlightening conversations with two workers who live in the local homeless shelter. They were there because they were getting paid, but they were also there because they wanted to help out. One of them had grown up benefiting from the generosity of other people, and he hoped no one complained about what they were getting. When he was a kid, he said, he was always grateful when people gave food to his family. Now he works for a landscaper, and work is hard to come by in the winter.
I live in abundance. Most of us do even if we don't always feel like it, even if we scramble to pay our bills each month. We don't live without heat, we don't go hungry, and our children don't wonder if there will be dinner on the table at the end of the day. But for a lot of people, day-to-day tasks I barely think about are difficult and burdensome, a fact made clear to me at the food bank. That same afternoon I went to the grocery store and filled my cart with what I needed without worrying about paying. I went home to a warm house where the cabinets are full of food, my daughter has everything she needs to thrive, and my husband doesn't have to humble himself to bring home a few cans of soup and some beans.
I know a lot of people make bad choices and find themselves in need from their own doing. I also know that a state of want can hit anyone of us at almost any time. So, while I have plenty, I will try to do what I can, which isn't much, to help out those with less. They'll remind me that even though my shopping cart is full today, tomorrow it may be empty, and I'll need someone to hand me relief until I can work to fill it up again.
Comments
You are such and angel; doing volunteer work for the needy is something a lot of us say we intend to do but you actually get out there and do it.
Well done!
Good for you! I had really been looking at the food bank entry in our church bulletin all of December wondering if that was for me. Like Dive says, we just need to get out there and do it.
PF
Things have changed an awful lot for me over the years. A lot of adapting! Oh, we are still comfortable compared to many, we're warm, have a lovely home though now quite small, having lived in very large homes before, but ALWAYS i have to think about what i'm buying. Being a single mum is not easy, but it's certainly not the worst financial position, just a bit of a struggle, nothing like those people! There are many, many reasons for being in the position you met whilst doing that work yes. I do recall, when handing out food, looking at women's handbags too! Some were very expensive! I couldn't work it out, really. Personally i'd have sold the bag before joining the queue.
I loved this post.
PF, sign yourself up. We really should take one Friday a month at least.
Lynn, we all go through thick and thin phases over the years. I have seen families who live in pretty shabby houses hauling in really big TVs. I hope that guy doesn't show up in the food line, unless he has sold that TV and done what he could for his kids.
Rich, I have thought about how it feels good to help and wondered if that's my motive. I hope not.
Gina and Maria, you really do never know what could happen. They say everyone is just a few pay checks away from being homeless, especially these days.