A New TFPM Participant's Story

Over the years, The Front Porch Ministries (TFPM) has served as a lifeline for many, not just Mount Rainier residents but also people from across Prince George's County and DC.

Many of the participants need food, coats, diapers, socks, scarves, hats, hand sanitizer, masks, and other items. However, some literally survive daily because of The Front Porch Ministries (TFPM).

Yesterday, a new participant told me a story of need, desperation, and thankfulness. The story brought tears to my eyes, and today, I am sharing it because it may inspire some of you.

Imagine living well, having your needs met, and having your wants almost always satisfied. Imagine being the foundation for your family and many of your friends. Then, wake up one morning with all your financial wealth and stability gone.

What do you do? Pride, shame, and disbelief stop you from asking for help, and your life continues down that downward spiral that seems to be speeding up. Yet, you will still not be able to avail yourself of available social services.

You can't even cry anymore.

You have given up on yourself and God.

Then someone drives you to a place where you can come late at night, during the day, early in the morning, or whatever time you can get there and get food. Then you learn you can ask someone there for help without sharing your name or other information.

Skipping forward some years later, you start getting back on your feet. You get a job, then a room, and eventually an apartment entirely furnished by outside resources based on information from The Front Porch Ministries (TFPM). You are beyond grateful to still be able to continue getting food from there. Then, you decide to share your story with your friend one day -- No longer ashamed but proud to have survived your predicament over the past four years.

Listening to the details of this story brought tears to my eyes and once again challenged some of my decisions about The Front Porch Ministries (TFPM).

Keeping The Front Porch Ministries (TFPM) open is a hard job. At least every other month, the thought arises that this is just too much work. Folks won't close the bins, Orkin sometimes has to come twice a month to fight the rodents, no bags, somebody takes everything or decides to curse you out or challenge you for posting that you have X's, but they got there it was all gone, or that was the reason they came, and the list goes on.

There is also the pain of not being able to do enough to help get many participants back on their feet. Even worse is watching the little children come up with their parents and tell you thank you for giving them food so that they can eat.

As I write this story, my eyes are swelling with tears, and I am just thinking about the conditions under which many of my neighbors live in a country with so much waste, mainly food.

Being born in the country often meant not having many of my needs met, although I never knew hunger. I know about working in the fields from sun up to sun down. I know about picking cotton, cropping, handing, stringing, hanging, and grading tobacco. I chopped wood for the stove and the fireplace and cleaned soot out of the stove so the fire would burn. Yes, I milked cows, churned butter, made soap, picked pecans, picked grapes, peaches, pears, and persimmons, raked yards, and helped make sugar cane syrup. What I never worried about, however, was a roof over my head, a bed to lay in, or going to school to get an education – a colored education where the teacher knew my family, had high expectations for every student, and core values were instilled in everyone – lying, stealing, cheating, and killing were wrong. Love thy neighbor as thy self was the order of the day. Pride comes before a fall!

Life was country hard, but the community was family! Doors were rarely, if ever, locked. The sick and shut-in were part of the community and taken care of by the community.

I guess all of this just bubbled up this morning, and here it is. I finally understand a lot better what older folks meant when they talked about the good old days when neighbors were neighbors, that it takes a village to raise a child and do unto others as you would have them do unto you.

THANK YOU to all the donors, past and present, for donating food, diapers, coats, gloves, hats, and everything else I have requested over the years.

Thank you to all participants who found their way to The Front Porch Ministries (TFPM). Some of you no longer come and have gotten back on your feet. Thank God for you. Some are no longer with us, and I pray that their cups run over wherever they are.

It is the Christmas season, and you have again stepped up to ensure Mount Rainier residents who can step out beyond their pride can and will receive help. THANK YOU.