Giving Back on Thanksgiving ...a journal entry... republished

"Were it not for hope, the heart would break."~Scottish proverb





Please reach out to those less fortunate...there are countless “homeless families”…

Some thoughts about spending Thanksgiving with the homeless …A hot meal truly is the beginning of hope... Love is a purpose for being...

On this morning after, I’m walking off balance, on a bit of an emotional high wire. There has been an emotional roller coaster ride going on for about 365 days now, that has come full circle. It started out with an unexpected repressed memory flushing to the surface that more or less knocked me off the rails. If dealing with that wasn't enough I was back on a very emotional journey back to a rescue mission I had visited on Sunday’s with my Sunday school youth group much earlier in my life. I had been there for other reasons too. I've been back there several years in a row but this year was so much more emotional than past years. There seems to be so many more homeless people and the families with children?...Well it just breaks my heart. 

 I don’t want this to be triggering for anyone that reads but I would still wish to share a little because it may encourage someone else to get involved and lend a helping hand. I have to be honest there are other safer ways to help. There are many charities out there, my favorites include animal shelters, this mission for the homeless and Hospice. Don’t read on if you are triggered by a highly sensitive, emotional description of experiences at a homeless mission at Thanksgiving. There just is no other way to tell it because it is what is real…


Here is a snippet of what went on from my journaling:

Slept poorly as yesterday’s food prep time, and some clothes and blanket sorting, was reason for some soul stirring and pots and pans stirring too. The best or worst part is that because of the storms last week more stuff was needed. So I helped with the coats and hygiene sundries first. Right out of the gate while helping organize the messed up piles of used clothing while, street people sorted through them, I interacted with 2 different homeless men and one women, likely a street walker. I’m not being judgmental here; I want to be honest and realistic of the painful parts of the real world that were experienced at this intersection of destiny.

The soft spoken woman politely thanked me for a soft warm blanket and a coat for her little girl. I also gave her a personal hygiene packet full of women stuff as well as many pamphlets and brochures about outreach programs.

Back to the men whom I feared I'd have more difficulty reaching out to. Not at all, after the first sentence from one of them. He asked me if I thought a coat he had in his hands would fit him and would it be warm? I said “yes, my friend... I knew that because that coat was formally mine, I just brought it here a moment ago”...There was no time for warm ups or stretching just instant reality of the street…The tears flowed from these two eyes and his glowed back in return. Next he pulled a filthy handkerchief out of his pocket and tried to hand it to me to wipe my eyes...I quickly snorted and wiped away the tears with my sleeve. I then walked outside by a line that was waiting to get in...Anxiety hit me and I thought of running. I walked a block away with tears flooding my eyes and then turned around 180 degrees, back to my commitment. You see, I realize I needed them more than they need me.

The other man was not so chatty, so I spoke to him but we did not look into each others eyes. He either saw or felt what had just happened so it was pretty quiet and awkward. I dug in and found another outdoor coat I had bought the other day at Goodwill for 1/2 price and asked him to try it. It fit well enough; it was warm and a bonus...water proof! He couldn't say much but after I gave him the same packet as the others, well the one for men, he asked me “Will you be here tomorrow, early?”. I said yes and that maybe I would watch for him and try to serve him dinner at 10 am by the way...Knowing full well there would be so many people that it could be nearly impossible to meet again.

This was a very personal experience...Enough life went on in 2 days to write a book...At this moment I am emotionally exhausted. An Empath feels all raw emotion as if it were his own. Being an Empath is not a form of mental disorder...It can cause overwhelming social anxiety which no one I have ever met has really understood. But this entry is not about that...It is written to advocate for the homeless...Please, please understand how much it means to give what you can...love is all there is...


“ I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget who you are, but people will never forget how you made them feel. ~ Walter Winchell