We ourselves feel that what we are doing is just a drop in the ocean. But if that drop was not in the ocean, I think the ocean would be less because of that missing drop. I do not agree with the big way of doing things.
--Mother Teresa
Homeless BreakfastSunday, October 26, 1997 Luke posted some minifictions, from a visit to New York in 1987. These pages look good, but I don't know how you would duplicate the coolness of the small printed versions. Maybe by designing them with small new browser windows opening up, and parts of the story and pictures there? I'm usually not so thrilled with web presentations like that, but if a friend did it, I'd probably say "Cool!"
Saturday was my day for making breakfast for the homeless men. I am a meal provider for an overflow shelter that my parish runs in the parish center, four nights a week from October to April. Twelve men, older and calmer than most, are sent over from a larger shelter, to sleep, be served cereal and coffee in the morning, and receive a take-away bag of "breakfast" that they might be eating all day. I signed on to be a meal provider when they started the program several years ago. I chose that as my "ministry," as they say, to honor my mother. She used to do something similar at our parish in Arlington, VA, Our Lady Queen of Peace. The priest there had homeless men living with him in the rectory, and she would be taking dinner over there periodically, big pots of chili and large bowls of cut-up fruit. She was always convinced that those men weren't getting enough fiber, and she was probably right! So I volunteered to do this meal thing once a month, but they have enough volunteers that I usually get scheduled about every six weeks. My six-year-old nephew, J---, had been wanting to help me with this project, and since this time was on a Saturday, it was a good time for it. He is at an age where he is developing social concerns, which my sister and brother-in-law approve of, but they wanted to find something that he could do besides giving money to panhandlers. My brother-in-law is a social worker down town, but he doesn't get into giving money, I think. He usually has more direct action that he can take for those folks he encounters. Saturday was also the last day of my nephew's soccer season, and he voluntarily gave up an ice cream outing with the rest of the team so he could do this with me, which I thought was quite a notable sacrifice (and his own idea!) for a six-year-old! I went over to their place and chatted with my sister until they got back from the game, then took him off with me to Costco. Costco is a good place to shop for something like this, because I know ahead of time that I have to prepare twelve meals. The bulk packs of food and the pre-packaged items streamline the meal prep. We were there at the peak time of day, and had to park way in the back next to the railroad tracks. J--- and I restrained ourselves from examining the books, clothing and software, and went straight to the back and grabbed string cheese, bread, canned chicken (for sandwiches), yogurt, orange juice (in eight ounce bottles), applesauce, and dried fruit (a blueberry, cherry, and strawberry mix). All these food choices were predicated on the fact that these guys have few or no teeth. Hard or tough things just don't work for them. We also got some of those large muffins. J--- saw a clown while we were waiting in line, someone going to a Halloween party. He has always been interested in clowns since the Seafair clowns drove by his house when he was one year old. My sister now knows far more about the history of the circus and all the different historical clowns than she ever thought she would! We grabbed a snack at the front of the store, one of those tasty chicken sandwiches rolled up in a pita-type bread and baked. Then off to home, and we assembled the bags. J--- got lots of practice counting to twelve over and over! He helped with making the sandwiches and distributing each food item, one to a bag. Then we carried them back out to the car and drove the few blocks to the parish center. There is a secret location for the key, so we could get in and leave the bags in one of the refrigerators. The only time I've seen the men is one time when I forgot it was my night! When I got home from somewhere, I found the phone message and had to go back out, straight to the grocery store, and I assembled the bags in the middle of a windstorm in the parking lot! When I got to the parish center one of the men was already sleeping just inside the door, and I think I really startled him when I opened it!
Today I went down to Broadway and bought the book for the MS bookclub tomorrow night. I also bought my first Dilbert book, although of course I've been reading him for a long time. Dilbert even appears in the Micronews, the MS weekly newsletter for employees! Seven Years of Highly Defective People is a clever repackaging of old strips, with comments handwritten by Adams giving notes about particular characters, or ideas that didn't work out as expected. The strips are funny, of course, but I always like the backstage stuff.
Tonight I watched the special Halloween episodes of the Simpsons, then taped The Tenant of Wildfell Hall by request of my sister. Too bad it's that little bit longer than two hours! I hadn't realized this, so I had set it to record at the faster SP speed. I had to quickly slip in a second tape to get the last few minutes. What I saw of the show looked good! I did one diary-crit tonight, and I need to catch up on a few. I'm up for critique the next two weeks, and how can I expect feedback if I don't give it to others! So what with one thing and another, I didn't get the book read for my bookclub. Rats! My exclamation of "Rats!" used to really amuse one of my former officemates. I just figured it would be better to develop expletive habits of a mild nature, than to get in trouble with stronger language at inopportune moments. I've also been known to come out with "Bother!"
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