Emergency food pack

"'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’ The King will reply, 'truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.'" Matthew 25:37-40

"Mommy, mommy, I'm hungry!" he kept whining. I kept trying to assure Ryan that it wouldn't be much longer, and I wondered what it would be like if after obtaining groceries from the food pantry, I had to board the Metro #8 for a crosstown trip with two bags in hand, my purse, our coats, and my 3 year old (who was still hungry).

"That is why we're here, baby", I tried to enlighten him with a chipper attitude.  "We will get you something to eat here".  That was yesterday in the middle of the Braes Interfaith Ministries (BIM) Food Pantry at 4300 West Bellfort in Houston, which is on the grounds of my church and smack in the middle of my upper middle-class neighborhood.  As we prepare to give to the Souper Bowl of Caring on February 5th, my goal is to help inform my church congregation on a more personal level about the needs of those in poverty living in our midst.  I'm pretty sure that I fed him yesterday morning, so this extra hunger pang just sought to deepen my whole experience at BIM.  The day started with meeting the folks who run the show there.

As I walked down the corridor, I ran into the Director and Social Worker, Eloy Montes.  He and I go way back to 2005, when we became the hub for an emergency shelter after the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina.  Both of us committed to helping others, it is always easy to sit down and cut through the small talk to get down to brass tacks about need, and how we can make things better for those in our community who are suffering.  After he introduced me to one of BIM's volunteers, Charlotte (pictured above) who was celebrating her 91st birthday (that is not a typo!) and 21 years of service to BIM, I was ready to learn more about this organization.  God willing I live to and look as great as she does at 91 - and have the energy to volunteer on top of it all - what a remarkable woman. 

After gathering some facts on hunger, I asked him what a food pantry client would receive when they first came through the doors at BIM.  He kind of skirted my question, and asked me in a gentle manner why I was asking.  He then added that I could get assistance from them, even if I was out of their service zip codes, because I was a member of the church.  I was taken back a bit, wondering practically out loud, did someone tell him?  Does he know?  Our tight finances, the product of the down economy coupled with legal battles for the little person, are not a huge secret.  In the past week, I have been figuring out how to keep my family fed with less use of meats and have just ordered bulk rice and beans as a part of that process.  Going from having anything you want, to actually looking at prices is very humbling.  I decided to keep it "professional", so I sat up a little taller in my seat, and a bit self-consciously waived him off with "no, no, of course not.  I just want to know so I can write about it."

I really wasn't there for food.  We are actually doing just fine, and my pants aren't falling off or anything yet, but his question got me thinking, and I started to wonder what the actual EXPERIENCE of having to go to a food pantry was like.  It's not like I'm that far away from being someone who could actually benefit from these services.  Eloy asked if I wanted to take some photographs of the intake area before I left, and I said I would and headed down the hall.  He called out to remind me that I only take client photos from the back, to help hide their identity and to preserve their dignity.

I was able to get some shots of an intake interview of a single woman, and made sure to photograph her from the back.  Afterwards, I noticed how empty the waiting room was and decided to go for it.  Moments later, I put myself in her shoes and Ryan and I were in the seating area, me filling out a family intake form and Ryan playing puzzles on the kids' table.  It was funny that the volunteers either did not remember I was the one just taking pictures, or maybe they truly did not care, because I received the same standard treatment that everyone else got while I was there.  I didn't have the proper "documentation", but they kept searching out how they could help.  They don't want to turn anyone away that is in need, so they came up with the solution of the "emergency food pack".  Once I came back, I could get the regular groceries from them every thirty days.

Suddenly I was the woman in the hot seat, who could only be photographed from the back.  Some paperwork, a few signatures, an interview, and the surrender of my driver's license, I had a shopping cart loaded with food about thirty minutes later. The contents of my treasure included one loaf of white sandwich bread, five bagels of various flavors, one package of rye bread, one loaf of olive bread, one package of mac n cheese, one jar of jelly, one jar of peanut butter, one can of peaches, two cans of chili, one can of carrots & peas, one pack of hot dogs, one little cake, one bag of beans, one bag of rice, one pack of spaghetti noodles, some fresh collard greens, carrots, broccoli, toothpaste, hand soap, a few pounds of frozen chicken and a sample size Clinique facial scrub. 

That last discovery at the bottom of the grocery bag made me laugh.  How did they know I'm a Clinique devotee?  I wonder if they knew who they were giving that to - like do they cater towards the different clients with these toiletries?  Or do they give men Clinique facial scrub, too?  

On a more serious note, I had a couple of realizations yesterday as I spent a few minutes on my day off, loading my groceries and my kid into my late-model Lexus and headed back towards my granite accented kitchen in the middle of my beautifully-kept neighborhood full of manicured lawns, foreign cars and wealthy folks with corporate jobs and privately schooled kids.

First, I do not have it near as tough as most people in this world, even if my income hasn't been what it was in the past - I still have indoor plumbing, a roof over my head, a set of wheels and a little baby weight.  Second, as a gluten-free household, we can't use even half of what they sent home with me.  Third, I have no idea how I would make those meager foodstuffs last for the 30 days a family has to wait before receiving more food from BIM.  And finally, how the heck do you cook collard greens?  These are the kinds of questions I never thought I would be asking myself, and thanks to my first-hand experience at BIM, I have started to think more deeply about needs versus wants, about the disparity between those of us who have and those of us who don't.  And why its the way it is, and what can be done about it.  As we prepare for Lent, perhaps you are thinking too about these types of things.

I'm going to display the donations I received along with some other facts and figures at my church in our missions space - Jacob's Well - as part of a multi-sensory display on hunger and poverty from now through the end of Lent.  And if the next time you see me, you notice that the texture of my skin has improved, well, that's because I'm keeping the Clinique scrub.