Exploring Values ~ SERVICE

Listen to me tell the story on YouTube or read the text below:

As a child my mother would take me to the church soup kitchen to volunteer. She and I would cook and make care packages for all who came seeking hot meals and non-perishables for themselves and their families. I remember my first time helping out. The doors opened and slowly people began walking in, some with shopping carts full of their most prized possessions and others alone. Some greeted each other like old friends. I remember one woman who came in greeting others with a smile. She wore a white t-shirt and through it you could see her large breasts moving back and forth, free of the usual constraint.

My mother and I were alone in the kitchen, a two-woman show. 8-year-old Little Khadijah watched with big eyes as the adults arrived. Before she climbed onto the chair that would help her to see out of the serving window where she would be handing out food, she turned to her mother and said, “I’m scared. I don’t know what to say to the people when they walk up to the window.”

My mother took my hand in the middle of the kitchen and said a prayer with me, asking God to give me courage. Feeling fortified I took my place in the window and from that moment on I became a regular fixture at the church soup kitchen, packing care packages, serving food and smiling at all who came looking for some type of nourishment, support and solace.

Thankfully the value of service was instilled in me at a very young age. Even now when I walk the streets and see homeless people I give and when I am not able to give something I smile and nod to say I see you.

As I grew older I continually made an effort to give back when and where I could. In college I had the opportunity to take part in initiatives that allowed me not only to serve but also to converse with those who wandered the streets und were not so fortunate to have a roof over their heads. 

Once a friend and I were in Malibu – this was during the time when I was studying at Pepperdine University. We were grabbing some frozen yogurt at our favorite ice cream parlor. I got my usual vanilla frozen yogurt topped with cookies and cookie dough. My more health conscious suitemate ordered her usual fruit topping and we searched for a place to sit. All the tables were taken. We had just about given up when a homeless man sitting at a table alone eating soup asked whether we would like to join him. My suitemate and I looked at each other and sat down, thanking him for the invitation.

He told us a lot about himself, about once having been a professor. I remember in particular him telling me that Jesus is above us in a spaceship just waiting for the right time & opportunity to land. We listened intently and interestingly enough that wouldn’t be the last time that I would hear that piece of information.

As we sat engrossed in conversation, sharing spontaneously whatever came to mind, two women walked past us. Looking at us, one said loudly: “Well that’s something you don’t see every day.”

In response to her observation our former professor friend replied, mimicking her tone, “Now that’s someone I don’t need in my life.”

We parted and said our goodbyes to our new friend, all hoping that we might see each other again one day, but unfortunately we didn’t.

During my time in Malibu I had the opportunity to spend time with a lot of homeless men. A professor once took us, his entire class, to the Santa Monica Beach to pass out warm socks, dry goods and hygiene articles to the homeless sleeping along the shore. It was during this trip that I once again heard that Jesus is in a spaceship circling, waiting for the appointed moment to land.

Walking on with this in mind, I sat down to talk to one man and ended up spending the afternoon with him. He had cuts in his face, apparently after being attacked. He went for urgent care and was given a bottle of strong pills. He was told to make sure that he ate before taking them. He laughed, saying that he was never sure of a meal. Sitting cross-legged on the sandy grass he continued to share: After the doctor’s visit he was able to find some meat in a dumpster that still had a normal color to it that enabled him to take his meds after leaving the clinic. He told me how the Santa Monica nights could be very cold.

When the class returned to campus I tried to find a way to get from Malibu back to Santa Monica, so that I could buy him a blanket and bring it to him. My friends laughed at my plan to find him again. I didn’t have a car and it was too far for a taxi. As a Freshman I didn’t feel comfortable asking the people I had just met for help. The nights after that meeting on the beach were long. I couldn’t sleep for months, thinking that my cowardice was forcing another human being to endure cold nights. I started to hate my blanket and felt guilty for having what others also deserve. I remember his name even to this day, though I won’t mention it here, and think of him very often.

From Malibu I moved on to Nashville, Tennessee. It was beautiful living in Malibu but I could rarely enjoy it. I had to work a lot to be able to afford food, tuition and expenses, so while the beach had led me to the university, I rarely got to see it. So I decided to transfer to the school I had wanted to attend since I was 11 years old.

In Nashville I met “Larry”. We were out cleaning the streets, an initiative organized by the homeless. Together we cleaned the streets, giving us individuals from different walks of life an opportunity to spend time together and learn more about each other. When the street cleaning was finished a man walked up to me and asked if he could tell me his story.

“Sure,” I replied, unsure why he had chosen me. Before I could ask he said, “I would like to tell it to you because you look like someone who will not judge me.”

Thankful and wondering how I had managed to give off such good and wholesome vibes, I told him I would love to hear his story. He kept it very short.

Although it was many years ago, I remember him telling me that he had once had everything he could ever wish for and he chose to give it all up and live on the streets. I asked him why, and he simply replied, “Because I felt like I didn’t deserve it.”

In that moment I had a knee-jerk reaction. I could feel my lips moving to begin to tell him that we all deserve to have when I remembered his desire not to be judged. He neither wanted to be pronounced guilty nor innocent. He didn’t want to be pronounced deserving or undeserving. He just wanted to share. So I caught myself and held my tongue. I switched gears.

“What is your name?” I asked, as he began to walk away.

“I don’t want to tell you and become a burden to you.” He said.

“You could never be a burden to me. I just want to remember you!”

“Larry.” He replied. But by the mischievous look in his eyes I could tell his name was as much Larry as mine is Esmerelda.

“Ok.” I said. “It was so nice to meet you, ‘Larry’, and thank you for telling me your story.”

We all meet with difficulties and challenges along our paths. Some homeless people were kicked out of their homes by their parents at a young age. Some lost the people they love to accidents or illnesses and spiraled into depression, no longer able to care for themselves. There was even a time during my college years when I was left without a home and a place to sleep.

During this Covid-19 pandemic many soup kitchens and shelters have closed for fear of spreading the virus. Thousands of people in Germany alone are left with no food and shelter for the winter. In order to help those in need I have asked friends and family to donate so that we can create care packages. We have bought sleeping bags to help keep people warm as well as hygiene articles and dry goods.

Jesus was always moved by the outcasts and those who could not find a home in society. Perhaps he would not need to land his spaceship, if we would step up and show our brother and sister human beings compassion and care for each other as Jesus once requested.

Please reach out to your local missions and ask how you can help. It could be as simple as a donation of money, a sleeping bag or dry goods. Every little bit counts and could save a life.