Wherever you hang your hat, whether it’s a condo, apartment, house or tiki hut… it’s a space you call your own. When you’ve had a bad day or you’re feeling less than stellar, where would you most like to be? Probably curled up on the couch or in your favorite reading chair or under the covers in your bed… in your sanctuary.. your home.
So can you imagine what it’s like if at the worst time in your life, when the chips are down and you’re most alone, there is no home. No sanctuary, no place to hang that hat…. if you own one.
Tonight I tagged along with my new neighbor, Carol, and her church group. On the last Tuesday evening of every month they come together at the Congregational Church kitchen and make a delicious hot meal using old family recipes. The food is then loaded into cars and taken to a nearby homeless shelter, where they serve approximately 40 people.
I wanted to take them all home, especially the older gentleman who looked to be around 80 and in poor health. He was so grateful for that meal and a pleasure to talk to..and I thought how does it come to this… why isn’t there a better solution for this man.? There were also young men and women, all of whom look haunted. I don’t know their stories, but their pain is clear. And so is their need… our need… to take better care of those who have not been so blessed.
Thankfully there are people like those I met tonight in the church kitchen. I plan to join them on their next Midnight Run, a drive to the New Haven green and occasionally NYC to deliver blankets, food and toiletries to the homeless. As I sit here typing out this post with all I need a stone’s throw away I realize it’s the least I can do, and I hope I remember to appreciate all that is good. Every. Single. Day.
