Most everything in my neighborhood that matters to me is on one street and within blocks. My bank, the movie theaters, the card shop where I work, two Italian restaurants and one Chinese, my grocery store. It's all there. So that's where I spend most of my life, walking west on that street. If I turn and walk east, I'm at my church. It's right there. But unless I'm headed to church or the post office, I don't walk that way.
Last fall, my church sent up a little "honor system" pantry on the porch of the rectory. There's an old refrigerator and a free standing cabinet available 24/7. It's unfortunately necessary because the "official" food pantry – which does great work that I also support* – requires clients present ID confirming residency and fill out paperwork. Many homeless people do not have mailing addresses, and many others who fear ICE don't want to be found on the food distribution days where they can be "rounded up." It's important to note that ICE is prohibited from stepping onto our porch because it's church property ... and because they totally suck.
Anyway, this week as I dropped food off in the cabinet on the porch, I ran into two homeless gentlemen eating lunch at the picnic table placed there for that purpose. It was the first time I ever saw anyone seated at the table, enjoying the food available to them. They were eating what I assume was peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, but I didn't look too closely because I was embarrassed.
I don't know why I was uncomfortable. They were pleasant and friendly as I added a couple pouches of "tuna to go," a packet of Ramen and a tin of those little Armour sausages to the cabinet. I guess it was weird to feel like Lady Bountiful.
When I was done with my business at the post office, I walked past the rectory porch again and again saw someone. This time an elderly woman, accompanied by two little kids. She represents another group the "official" food pantry can't help. To qualify for food there, your income has to fall below a certain level. What frequently happens is that seniors have trouble making ends meet on their Social Security but they still receive too much for the free food. So they end up on my church's rectory porch.
She had a small Target shopping bag filled with food, but I don't know what she took. Mac and cheese, probably. Kids like it and there's always multiple boxes of mac and cheese in that cabinet. Anyway, I didn't want to stare. I didn't want her to feel she was on display in anyway.
Now that I've seen the picnic table in use, I have gone back with the ketchup and salt packets and disposable plasticware that was cluttering my kitchen drawer. If people are making sandwiches there, these items might come in handy.
So I'm glad I walked east. I need to see who my neighbors are. I feel fortunate to be able to help them. I just wish encountering those in need didn't make me feel so awkward. I think perhaps because it's uncomfortable to confront how we're letting one another down.
*I'm more careful about the nutrition content of the non-perishables I donate to the "official" food pantry. Usually I go with pasta, soup or canned beans and tuna, because people who receive free food from there have homes with kitchens. Since so many who visit the rectory porch are homeless, it's a little trickier.
