Feeding Others

     The topic of feeding others has been on my mind lately. Some of this is undoubtedly because, like you, I have been hearing concerns about the economic downturn causing more and more people to access food pantries. I have also been hearing more about families and communities reclaiming the craft of gardening.
     Recently, I met a young woman who wanted to start a combination community garden and art gallery in our town. I will admit that I was a little annoyed that she was looking for grants to start this project on the middle-class side of town. Our community of just over 110,000 has the 6th largest Head Start program in the nation. It is safe to say that our low income neighborhoods could really benefit from community gardens and the beauty of a gallery filled with local art. Companion tells me not to be too judgmental about her idea. After all, we never know what direction ideas will flow.
     A week or so later, I got an invitation to join a church group as they served a meal to the homeless at our local overflow shelter.  The overflow shelter came about several years ago after a homeless man froze to death on the streets of our town. His death made obvious what homeless advocates had known for quiet some time, we simply did not have enough shelters to house the homeless during the harsh winter months. Social services agencies and volunteer groups decided to create a seasonal shelter system.
    So, I found myself at the overflow shelter offering colas and root beer to homeless people who came into the shelter for the night. At the end of the night a tall African-American man with a salt and pepper goatee came up to the table. "I want to you to know," he said, "we're not all just homeless bums here. Some of us are plumbers, electricians. We had jobs. We can work but this Reaganomics has got us down. If you ever need anything done, come see us, we'll help you. We'll work without a contract. You know what I'm sayin?" I nodded and said "Yeah, I do." He thanked us for the meal they'd just finished and walked away. We were thanked in so many ways that night that I felt like I was the one who had been fed.
    This past week, I interviewed the director of our local Daily Bread program. This program offers hot meals at our local Senior Center and delivers hot meals to home-bound low-income seniors. In most cases, the service is short term while the senior recovers from an illness. However, some seniors with chronic conditions that can be managed in the home also receive meals. This service is part of the safety net of community services that can help delay nursing home placement.
     While talking with the director of the Daily Bread program, I learned about Mr. Washington, the owner Washington's Cafe and Record Shop. It is not clear whether the Cafe continues to operate as a business. What is clear is that, at a time when the Daily Bread program was having a hard time finding volunteers to deliver meals in a predominantly African-American, economically depressed neighborhood, Mr. Washington and his son were willing to prepare and deliver 30 meals a day, five days a week. Mr. Washington still prepares and delivers meals.
     Then, on Thursday, I got to ride along with an 84 year old Daily Bread volunteer who has been delivering meals for 27 years. She continues to deliver meals even though her husband, and driver, of 62 years passed away in December. Turns out she wasn't really very interested in talking about herself. She put me to work, she talked about the people on her route, and she introduced me to some of the people who received meals. She told me about a man alone in his home on a Thanksgiving Day who completely changed her way of thinking about other people's lives and motivated her to a lifetime of volunteering to make sure that homebound seniors had hot meals and a smiling face to say "hello" to them, even on holidays.
     When I was take Gerontology classes, I had the good fortune to learn from a professor who had been involved with a hospice program in Oklahoma. In one of her lectures on letting go, she talked about how hard it can be for family members to accept the day that a loved one stops eating. How family members can try so hard to coax of loved one to continue to eat.  Failure to eat can be a sign that the body is shutting down. I can tell you from watching the elderly in nursing homes and from trying to nurse elderly pets in the home, that both of these facts are true. 
     We understand that people (and animals) must eat to live. I am reminded of a story called "Stone Soup." The story is told in different ways, but the general storyline is this: a group of travelers arrive in a village with nothing put an empty pot. The villagers are either not willing or not able to feed the group so they start a fire, fill the pot with water and a stone. When the villagers ask what they are doing, the travelers answer, "Why we're making soup. It would be perfect with just a bit of ....." Individual villagers are generally willing to share a little bit of seasoning, a little bit of carrots, a little bit of corn, maybe even a little bit of meat. Before long, the travelers have a wonderful soup, enough to feed themselves and the village too. 
     "Stone Soup" is usually told as a story of cooperation. I have seen this story played out in our town over the last couple of weeks. People are  being fed through the caring cooperation of others. But this is also a story of giving. Of realizing that whatever we have to give on any particular day, a bit of seasoning, a carrot, a little meat is enough - if we can find a way to add it to what others have to give. I am reminded over and over again that as much as we idealize independence, we cannot survive alone. We must reach out to one another. How often do you find that reaching out to end the isolation of others, and even to end your own isolation, involves sharing a meal? How are you or the people in your community making "Stone Soup?"