Lest you fear I’ve fallen off the face of the earth, I thought I’d better check in with you. I’ve been trying to get chores done around the house and I’m working on two pretty big posts but they’re not quite done cookin’ yet.
A quick story for you.
So, for those of you who don’t know, my husband works at a Mission/Shelter. They serve meals, have a food pantry, and help people with any problems that they can. The coffee’s always on, and there’s always someone to talk with. Anyone who walks through the door with a problem gets some lovin’ and help getting through their crisis.
They’re there to help people who have just gotten out of jail, people who have just come into town with no family or friends to help get them on their feet, people who are in poverty and have food stamps run out before the month is over. They’re there for people who have nowhere else to turn, and are at the end of their rope. If the Mission can’t help you, they’ll point you in the right direction of someone who can. If nothing else, you get loved on and prayed for.
They also have a clothes closet for people who have that need. Guys come in and say they just got a construction job but don’t have work boots or gloves. Folks who live under a bridge and need some more layers. Hunky always makes me laugh when he talks about the guy who comes in every once in a while and says, “Tom, Ah need me some drawhs an’ some socks. You needah find me some drawhs an’ some socks.”
For the most part, the people who are given clothes really need them and are very grateful. Every once in a while, Hunky’ll get the guy who comes in and says, “Ah need me a coat.” and when he’s shown what they have in his size, he says, “Ah cain’t wear dat. I’m’a playah.”
Which begs the question, “How you be a playah when you be gettin’ free stuff from the mission cuz you cain’t buy it.”
(And you better not flame on me for that, because that’s a quote from the biggest darkest black man I ever did meet. He works there with Hunky, and he likes me, and he’ll kick your ass.)
But, for the most part, it’s all good.
So after the election, someone donated 300 t-shirts that say “VICTORY McCAIN * PALIN” rilly rilly big across the chest.
Hunky says no one has said, “I cain’t wear dat”, but they have said, “Do you maybe have a different t-shirt in my size?”
A month later, the Mission still has the majority of those t-shirts.
Homeless and poverty-stricken people won’t take them.
An’ that’s all I have to say about that.
Rip it, roll it, and punch it, dude. Fo’ sho’.