A Worthy Cause

This evening, in light of the holiday season, a few people from work and I went to help serve dinner at a local soup kitchen.  We'd gathered up donations from our coworkers-- things like nonperishable food items, health & beauty items, blankets, clothing, children's toys, etc.-- to give to the Kalamazoo Gospel Mission, a local nonprofit organization that runs a homeless shelter, soup kitchen, rehabilitation center, and thrift store, among many other things.  Our group from Pfizer was scheduled to work there tonight, but we ended up not having enough volunteers.  When we arrived, however, we saw that another group had also been scheduled (accidentally) to work the same night, and they were lacking volunteers as well.  Once combined, our groups had the perfect number of workers to operate smoothly.  Funny how that works, isn't it?

I met so many interesting people-- volunteers from the other group, as well as permanent workers at the Mission.  Tyra, the food service manager, had come to the Mission a number of years ago, seeking help (he was a gang member in desperate need of food, shelter, and rehab for an addiction).  His life was successfully turned around due to the help he received at the Mission, and he now manages the entire food service area.  With his contagious energy, extraordinary zest for life, and endless stories, Tyra is the most entertaining person to work next to. 

If you know me at all, you know that I've participated in volunteer mission trips with my church from the time I was 14 years old.  For almost 10 years, I've been traveling to places like the Caribbean, Central America, and eastern Europe, working to help different groups of people who are all much less fortunate than me.  I'm the first to agree that it's most definitely an eye opener when you're working in a Third World country.  And I've seen some really disturbing things in disturbingly impoverished areas.  But unfortunately, you expect to see stuff like that in places like rural Nicaragua and post-Soviet states.  You don't expect to see it down the street from your apartment.

Today was the first time I experienced it in my own city. 

There were three dinner "shifts" that came through the Mission today.  The first was women/children and men who reside there.  The second shift was comprised of those enrolled in one of the Mission's rehab programs (they're there because of an addiction: gambling, alcohol, sex, drugs, etc.).  The third--and largest--group that came through was the actual homeless people.  People who live on the streets of Kalamazoo. 

I knew I would be serving food to homeless people, but I wasn't sure what to expect.  I'm ashamed to say that I was expecting to see cracked-out heroin addicts who reeked of cigarettes, or rude drunks who would ask me for my spare change.  Nothing--not even my 9 years of mission work--would have prepared me for what I experienced tonight.  I stood up at the salad bar and served tossed salad to those who had come to eat.  I made conversation with the most polite, friendly, respectful (and above all GRATEFUL) group of people I've ever encountered.  I smiled graciously as I accepted compliments from people who literally owned nothing but the clothes they were wearing.  I had fun.  And I wanted to cry. 

Throughout the entire meal, people were smiling as they walked by, carrying their winter coats, and all I could think was "It was 13 degrees when I woke up today.  I had to warm my car up for 15 minutes this morning, and I still froze for the first half of my drive to work."  I don't know for sure where these people woke up today, but my guess is that it wasn't in a bed with a heated blanket, in a 4-bedroom, 4-bathroom apartment.  I kept wondering--Where are their families?  Why am I so blessed to have an immediate family-- four different households-- that would gladly take me in if I had nowhere else to go?  It was difficult to stomach, seeing young mothers and young children who were forced to take up residence at the homeless shelter to get out of the freezing weather. 

I felt horrible for the stupid Christmas gifts I'd asked for (a 3-tiered cupcake stand?  really?).  I felt selfish, "American," gluttonous, spoiled.  I felt brokenhearted.  Sometimes I feel like my heart is just too big and I'm just too small to change the things that bother me most. 

So I propose that you help me.  It's just a suggestion, of course.  I can't force you to do anything.  This Christmas (and I know it's approaching quickly), consider this: take a few dollars you would normally spend on Christmas gifts, and instead buy things that your local homeless shelter can use.  I'm not saying that you should totally opt out from buying presents for your dear ones; I'm merely suggesting that you talk to the important people in your life and plan to do something together to help out an organization that offers assistance to the homeless in your area.  Believe me, I understand that not everyone is able to make a monetary donation or even an item donation.  So donate your time--it costs nothing.  Contact the volunteer coordinator at a local rescue mission and set up a time for you to spend a few hours helping out.  Every little bit adds up. 

So gather up some food or deodorant or toothbrushes or time, and put it to good use this holiday season.  Here's a list of the most needed items at the Kalamazoo Gospel Mission.  Even if you're not around the Kalamazoo area, it'll give you an excellent idea of what you can donate.  And if you're having trouble finding a local organization (and I doubt that it would be difficult to find, especially at this time of year), let me know and I'll do the research for you.  Christmas is a time of peace, joy, hope and love.  Everyone should be entitled to enjoy those four little pleasures, shouldn't they?  Let's make it a merry Christmas for everyone.