From the pastor:

        Back in January, I made a commitment to go through the dining hall each Wednesday, welcoming new people to our morning food and clothes distribution and inviting them to church. I figured we might get one or two new people each week who were bewildered by all the commotion.
         To my surprise, I found myself welcoming eight to 15 newcomers every week.
         I'm afraid that speaks volumes about the level of need in our community. We don't need more hot meals, but apparently there is a shortage of groceries in family cupboards as well as a shortage of jobs and affordable housing.
         As people come to us -- many of them saying they've never asked for help before -- we do what we can to make an unpleasant experience less unpleasant. Maybe even ... fun. 

         We begin by circling up for prayer, all of us in a messy, warped circle -- Hispanic children and elderly street dwellers and volunteers, side by side. Then we grab coffee and pastries and retire to our corners.

         In one corner, Ben Ivins repairs bicycles -- and occasionally gives out refurbished ones. In another, skilled pre-school volunteer Patti Grantham teaches children the joys of simple blocks. A nurse roams to take blood pressures. Our community nurse, Jean Lilley, is on hand for more specific consultations. 
       Voices of Triune, our men's a cappella ensemble, usually stops by for a sing-along. Upstairs, there is Bible study, an open art room and a children's clothes closet that rivals the mall. People are invited to stay for afternoon City Prayer, an employment round table and computer training.  
         One day a woman burst out with what many were probably thinking: "I've never been treated like this in a food pantry!"
       As summer approaches, we are, inevitably, facing bare shelves. We'd love to be the recipient of your food drives, but more importantly, of your unrestricted financial gifts to keep all our balls in the air. 

You know where we live.

Blessings,

Deb Richardson-Moore