What We Do

Consider how many times we have all experienced small, personal acts that came from the willing hearts of strangers that made a difference in our day, and for some of us, made a difference in our lives.

How many times have we extended a hand or a word to friend and stranger alike simply because that’s what most of us do?

Without knowing or even imagining the consequences, we touch each other’s lives and lighten each other’s burdens all the time, unless we choose to do otherwise.

Connie once described her mother-in-law as looking like her disappointment in life froze her face into an ever-lasting mask of disapproval. The mother-in-law sat in her chair surveying Connie and all the supermarket ads spread over half the dining room table. Next to Connie were her scissors, a list of what was needed and stacks of food coupons.

“Good thing you got that education. Lord knows how you’d organize all that important stuff without it.” Connie answered her with silence. When her mother-in-law moved in, Connie was ten pounds overweight, and now Connie never weighed herself. It was as if every mean thing said to her wrapped itself around her body and added a spiteful heaviness.

Connie listed the supermarkets for this week’s route. She paid for gas only. That was the rule her husband set as he smoothed his hair over the thinning spot at the back of his head and tried to understand his wife wanting to get all that food for free, then giving it away for nothing. It was his considered opinion that his wife was going through the change and that’s why she wasn’t herself.

Connie couldn’t explain the thrill of gathering her treasure, the brightly colored boxes, packages and cans of every size. She looked over the container boxes and bags at every stop, making sure everything was secure and mentally calculating what food would be donated next.

Connie drove her familiar white van to the back where volunteers waved and smiled, calling out, “Here comes the Food Lady!”  At each place they carefully unloaded their portion of her treasure. The last stop was the women’s shelter.

Connie glanced in the office to say good bye and saw a woman with her small daughter. The woman was struggling over the questions on the form. Connie imagined herself filling out these same forms and how it would feel to escape into a new life . . .

What impressions or thoughts came to you?