Senior Spectrum
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January 2012
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Little Miracles
It was the 18th of December and I wasn’t exactly in a “Holly, Jolly Christmas” mood. I hadn’t quite reached the “Bah, Humbug!” stage but I was having a hard time feeling festive since I had (again) overloaded the calendar with too many things to do that I hadn’t yet done.
Instead of feeling joyful, I just felt overwhelmed and had clearly lost sight of the reason for the season.
And that “again” part was a disheartening reminder of perpetual resolutions for change that perpetually never happen. (As the calendar creeps it is increasingly discouraging to grapple with the fact that I might never be the “got-it-all-together” person I envision being.) I was feeling so out of sorts I found myself muttering the lyrics to the song “You’re a mean one, Mr. Grinch”, reflecting on that story and wondering whether I had gone entirely over to the dark side.
One of the things on my “to do” list that day was to stop by St. Vincent’s Dining Room to deliver clothing that had been collected at our gym. I arrived about an hour before the doors opened for lunch and was greeted warmly by Ray Trevino, who runs the Dining Room.
Ray magically and miraculously manages to feed between 500-600 people every day. He never knows what the menu will be until the last moment because he has to rely on whatever food has been donated, which certainly challenges his creativity. I watched in awe as he and his staff of four (there were ten before the budget cuts) along with a host of volunteers efficiently readied everything for the crowd that would soon flood in.
There is always soup simmering in the enormous pot and as we chatted I was offered a taste of the one he had made that morning; it was delicious. I asked whether they had ever run out of food. “Never,” Ray replied with complete faith; “He” (pointing upward) “wouldn’t let that happen.” He told me about childhood memories of his mother often being told (by Ray) that there was no food in the house and her reply was always the same: “are you sure?” before she somehow found something in the previously barren cupboard.
Then he told me about the soup pot. A few days earlier, 845 people had shown up to eat. One of the volunteers had gone to Ray to report the pot was nearly empty and the line outside was getting longer. “Are you sure? We’ve never run out of soup.” The volunteer insisted the situation was serious so Ray went to take a look. When he lifted the lid the two of them found a nearly full pot of soup. A little miracle? To Ray it was just standard procedure, the way things always work out, as he takes for granted they always will. That story about The Grinch Who Stole Christmas was floating through my mind again:
He puzzled and puzzled till his
puzzler was sore.
Then the Grinch thought of
something he hadn't before.
Maybe Christmas, he thought,
doesn't come from a store.
Maybe Christmas, perhaps,
means a little bit more
The clothing in my car needed to be brought in and Ray helped me put everything on a table in the Dining Room so people could help themselves. In the midst of the coats, sweaters and scarves there was one lone pair of men’s shoes, size twelve. Ray immediately took them to hold for a daily guest who had such enormous holes in his only pair of shoes that his toes were hanging out.
Then we opened a box that one of my gym buddies had given to me that morning. Everything in it was new, all of it sized for a large man. She told me she had no idea where it came from but the box had been in the back of her office for over two years. She had grown so accustomed to seeing it there she had forgotten all about it but the day before she had suddenly been seized with the need to investigate. When she discovered the contents she put it in her car to bring to me for the clothing drive. When I shared that story with Ray he gestured to me to follow him. He pointed to one of his daily volunteers and told me the man had only one pair of pants and no easy means of laundering them. Only a few hours before my arrival Ray had taken him across the street to the thrift shop with the intent of buying him a second pair but there was nothing there to fit him. And now...
My “Grinchy” spirit was rapidly diminishing and when the doors opened and I saw the happy, eager expressions on the faces of people streaming in, it disappeared entirely; I was finally feeling joyous. My own little miracle.
As I drove away the rest of that Grinch story came to mind:
And what happened, then?
Well, in Whoville they say that
the Grinch's small heart grew
three sizes that day.
And then - the true meaning
of Christmas came through,
and the Grinch found the strength
of ten Grinches, plus two!
Postscript: On December 25th St. Vincent’s Dining Room served over 900 people. All of the food for that day was provided and prepared by John Asquaga’s Nugget. Every guest was warmly greeted with a cheerful “Merry Christmas”, escorted to a table and served instead of having to stand in line. My husband and I were privileged to be among the many happy volunteers.
Anne Vargas vargasanne@hotmail.com