Won't You Feed Thy Neighbor?

On May 13, the job that I held for sixteen years left me. Although it provided the main source of my family's income, it was in the not-for-profit performing arts field. Therefore, it did not pay very much but it had allowed me to do a lot of work from my office at home. Suffice it to say that I have always been frugal. Since then, summer break has come for my elementary school-aged daughters. I also have a toddler. Kids at home plus part-time job at church plus working on garden plus job searching have now swallowed up my every moment.

Job searching, all I can say is, “ugh”! It is much harder for me to LOOK for a job than to HAVE a job. Recently, I've had some wonderful conversations with people who became unemployed. Some have successfully found new jobs. One pal, a true job search guru, has eagerly taken on the task of reading my resumes and cover letters. He is going to stage a mock interview for me next week. That is what gurus do for their friends.

As I prepare to take on interview questions such as “Where do you see yourself in five years?” (“Here, of course, happily employed by your company.”), I wrestle with the larger question that the employment project brings to light. What kind of person am I?

I think that most of us could come up with a list. I am the kind of person who is a mother, wife, sister, a daughter, and a neighbor. I am the kind of person who sings, writes and teaches music. I am the kind of person who gives time and money to charitable organizations and events.

Today, I became the kind of person who shops at the food pantry.

My spouse was commenting this morning on the lack of groceries in our house and the need for us to do the grocery shopping. “What money,” I asked, “would you like for me to use at the store?” I guess the reality of the income loss hasn’t sunk in yet. Or he really does think that money grows on trees.

I proceeded to create a fabulous lunch menu of grilled cheese sandwiches, Michigan strawberries macerated in sugar, glasses of milk, and side dishes of Pirate’s Booty. This was all from the “nothing” that we had at home. There were no complaints from the customers at Mom’s Diner. My littlest kid, who doesn’t talk yet, clearly communicated his desire to eat more strawberries. Washing the sticky red goodness off of his hands was quite a project. No one went hungry.

Still, it was obvious today that the pantry will become bare.

I stopped by my church and got the phone number for a local food pantry housed at another church. A very nice person answered the phone and told me what to bring to sign up. Clients are permitted to shop once per month. The pantry was open today.

At the appointed hour, I arrived and joined a small line of folks in a parking lot. I was advised right away, “Go get your number, dear.” It was a very high number, until one of the others told me that a lot of the numbers were missing.

With no shade on a sunny afternoon, I could feel myself starting to burn. My line-mates advised against leaving my place in the queue. Even with a number, this group resents people who do not honestly wait their turn.

And wait I did, for over an hour. During that time, I enjoyed some friendly and informative conversation about where the other food pantries in this County are located. Especially valuable were the reviews of those facilities. Some places are “totally worth the gas money” and others were “don’t bother, I waited all morning for one small bag and a tube of toothpaste.”

The majority of the shoppers were women, senior citizens. One jovial older fellow joined us, gleefully saying, “It must be ladies day!” Two young couples arrived, both with small babies. Infants who were about to get sun burned. The group unanimously gave the parents permission to stand around the corner, in the shade, without giving up their spot. Tales of jobs lost are the common bond among those of us who are not elderly.

Once inside, I found the volunteer staff to be gracious, hard-working, well-organized and kind. Except for the rotten produce that was offered to me, everything else that I received was genuinely useful, edible and helpful. While selecting items from different shelves, I took a pass on things that I really wouldn’t serve to my kids. I just don't think hamburger needs help. Some good surprises where non-sugary cereals, oatmeal, all purpose cleaner and name brand toothpaste.

Sincerely grateful for the gift of non-perishable items, I took the bags home. My curious kids gathered around. A can of Pringles scored the highest on the squeal-o-meter. As one of them said, “It just doesn’t seem like stuff YOU would buy.”

That’s OK with me. Mom’s Diner pulled off bird’s nests of whole-wheat pasta, sautéed chicken thighs, and broccoli for dinner plus ice cream for dessert. This is a major feast in most parts of the world, I assure you.

Later this week, I have a music gig. My favorite grocery store is on the way home. My cart will be full of things that I would buy. It will also include tasty goods to give away. The Pastor of my church likes to remind the congregation to think of the “Buy One, Get One” items at the grocery store as “Buy One, GIVE One” opportunities.

What kind of person am I? Today, I became the kind of person who donates regularly to the food pantry.