One writes to make a home for oneself, on paper, in time, in others minds. Kazin
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We pulled up to the side door of the building. We were 15 minutes late and very stressed. My husband swears never to trust Map Quest again. There were a few young women, and several young children waiting. I grabbed one of the bags of groceries and made my apologies. The eight year old girl with the long blonde ponytail shifted the baby she was holding to her opposite hip and helped me find the right key on the keyring I had pulled from an envelope. She lead me downstairs and showed me where the kitchen was. It was locked, another key to find. I set down the groceries and my daughter switched on the lights. I head back upstairs to gather the rest of the food. I noticed the crowd had moved to the bottom of the stairs. They were surrounded by bags that were filled with their own possessions. There they stood, quiet, patient, watching me. I realized they were locked out of their home. I opened the doors and watched as they filed in and made their way to some of the partitioned cubbies on the far side of this large room. In the middle were 3 large folding tables set up like a horseshoe, surrounded by folding chairs. On each side were living room areas, one had a tv. There was a corner play area filled with toys, and a shared bath and laundry area. The kitchen is off limits and is only accessible through those who volunteer. Four families were staying at this family shelter; 2 couples, 2 single moms and 11 kids between them, ages 10 mos to 8 yrs old. Mike started a game of Chutes and Ladders with the kids, while EJ and I got to work in the kitchen preparing dinner. The kitchen was packed with old pots and pans, a mix match of plates and stacks of food packages in bulk. It's hard to choose food for somebodies elses family. One dad told me they have to start watching what his daughter is eating because she is gaining weight and out growing her clothes to quickily. Seems pasta is made quite frequently. I'm afraid I didn't do much better in my choices. Chicken fingers, hot wings, french fries, mashed sweet potatoes, and corn with shrimp and red peppers. I did make a garden salad, but still feel like I failed to think of the big picture. The two over night hosts arrive as I was cleanng up. They check to see what they will be making for the brown bag lunches and if there was enough milk and juice for breakfast. One of the moms calls into the kitchen, she needs a diaper and wipes and one of the hosts unlocks a supply closet and asks which size she needs. It was 8:45pm, the kids ran to give EJ hugs and Mike high fives as we said good night. Mike had the most to say on the way home. How cute the kids were, and how he felt so bad for little Angelina and her sister who were covered with bedbug bites. I couldn't help but think about how these moms couldn't make dinner for their own families, pack their own kids lunches, had to ask a stranger for a diaper. How they have to leave after breakfast and are not allowed back in until 5:30pm, if the volunteer is on time. The shelter is a help, I know it is. But ... |