At the start of every SPEC retreat, we go around and introduce our team. We share some things about ourselves and such.... some stick to one intro, I often randomly share whatever it is I want to that day. Oftentimes funny stories go over well- and this month brought me one I now found myself sharing in my intro....
A handful of us had gone out to "Home Base", a Lowes/HomeDepot type store to shop for paint for SPEC's redecorating project. While there, I picked up some Frebreeze. (Nothing like spraying some casually on your sheets and clothes!) I made my way to the check out. That is, what they call in England a "till." I have become very much aware of this fact. As I approached said till, there was a good lookin' guy behind the counter. Probably too young for me, but I digress....
I stepped up to the counter and not thinking twice asked, "Can you check me out??" While this question might come out a little funny in the states, it came out a lot funny in a country that doesn't even call it a check out. The poor chap looked confused...until I broke the silence with my All-American smile. He eventually said, "Ohhh! Are you from America??" We continued some small talk-- the exchange is often the same.. I mention I'm from Pittsburgh he replies with something he knows about Pennsylvania (usually Philadelphia)-- yada yada yada.
And that was the day I stood with Frebreeze in hand and asked to be checked out by a young man at an English till.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
I apoogize for my lack of posting...
Life has gotten pretty crazy. Or crazier, I suppose. But that doesn't excuse the fact that I haven't written in nearly four months. I am going to try and write more often. For now, though, I thought I would share the piece I wrote for EqUIP, EUIP's newsletter kind of thing. Each intern takes a turn writing a reflection for the newsletter and this month was my turn.
++++++++++
“Any socks today?” Rob asked, lifting up his pant leg to show me his sock-less foot stuffed into a sneaker at least two sizes too small. I shook my head.
“Sorry, we’re still out of them. Hopefully we’ll be getting some soon?” I had to phrase it as a question because I had no idea when we’d have socks to hand out again.
I see over one hundred different youth each month, most of whom don’t have a place to stay; a job; or enough money for a meal. They come to Common Ground to get a few of the things they can’t afford for themselves and to get away from the drama of the streets for a few hours. I quickly learned that I wouldn’t be able to give my “clients” (as we call anyone who utilizes services at Common Ground) everything they need. I have a limited supply of socks and blankets to give out, and only when the agency is lucky enough to get them. I pass out some food, but it’s never quite enough to fill stomachs.
I love my job, but it is also heartbreaking. In the last five months, I’ve encountered issues of intense poverty, addiction, and abuse. I constantly have to break bad news to people, whether it’s telling them we don’t have enough food for second helpings or telling them we don’t have any blankets even though it will be rainy and 40 degrees that night. When the food, socks, and blankets run out, though, I can still sit and talk. I try my best to listen to the people who usually get ignored and the stories that often go untold.
Last week, I ran into a former client of mine who had come back to the agency to meet with another staff member. I’d only met with him once and was sure he’d forgotten me, but I was wrong. He came up to me and enthusiastically shook my hand, telling me how grateful he was for me just sitting and talking with him. Despite the frustrations of my job, I’ve realized that I am making a difference. It constantly amazes me how something as easy as lending an ear can make such a huge difference. I may not be able to do everything I would like to do, but I’ll just keep doing what I can, even if it is simply a ministry of presence.
++++++++++
“Any socks today?” Rob asked, lifting up his pant leg to show me his sock-less foot stuffed into a sneaker at least two sizes too small. I shook my head.
“Sorry, we’re still out of them. Hopefully we’ll be getting some soon?” I had to phrase it as a question because I had no idea when we’d have socks to hand out again.
I see over one hundred different youth each month, most of whom don’t have a place to stay; a job; or enough money for a meal. They come to Common Ground to get a few of the things they can’t afford for themselves and to get away from the drama of the streets for a few hours. I quickly learned that I wouldn’t be able to give my “clients” (as we call anyone who utilizes services at Common Ground) everything they need. I have a limited supply of socks and blankets to give out, and only when the agency is lucky enough to get them. I pass out some food, but it’s never quite enough to fill stomachs.
I love my job, but it is also heartbreaking. In the last five months, I’ve encountered issues of intense poverty, addiction, and abuse. I constantly have to break bad news to people, whether it’s telling them we don’t have enough food for second helpings or telling them we don’t have any blankets even though it will be rainy and 40 degrees that night. When the food, socks, and blankets run out, though, I can still sit and talk. I try my best to listen to the people who usually get ignored and the stories that often go untold.
Last week, I ran into a former client of mine who had come back to the agency to meet with another staff member. I’d only met with him once and was sure he’d forgotten me, but I was wrong. He came up to me and enthusiastically shook my hand, telling me how grateful he was for me just sitting and talking with him. Despite the frustrations of my job, I’ve realized that I am making a difference. It constantly amazes me how something as easy as lending an ear can make such a huge difference. I may not be able to do everything I would like to do, but I’ll just keep doing what I can, even if it is simply a ministry of presence.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
