I am thankful and heartbroken at the same time

As we begin Thanksgiving week, I wanted to share what I did this weekend with you all.

At my job, we do several community projects each year. It’s one of the things I really enjoy about where I work. This year, we chose a small program to assist that provides backpacks of food for schoolchildren to take home over the weekends.

Children who would otherwise very likely not eat all weekend. Do you know how these kids are often identified as being in need of this program? It’s not because they ask for help or their parents apply for assistance, though most of them are already enrolled in the free breakfast and lunch programs at school. Many of them are identified by janitors. Who often find these children digging in the dumpsters at school looking for something to eat.

My eyes fill with tears every time I think about that. No one should have to dig through garbage for food, but the idea of children doing it actually gives me physical pain.

Our site sponsored a food drive and we put together bags of food. We did 300 bags for the long Thanksgiving weekend and another 150 or so regular weekend bags. We still had some items left over, which we also donated to the program. Saturday, a group of about 10 of us delivered the food to the program’s warehouse, and the director talked to us about what the food meant to these children, and the other programs their group helps with, including free mental health and medical services for children in need.

The stories will break your heart, just like they did mine.

An 8 year old boy drew a picture for his therapist of his friend getting shot outside their apartment building. Do I need to say more on this one? No. My God, no. That speaks for itself.

One of the programs the group oversees gives monthly birthday parties for the children in at-risk schools. Many of these children had no idea when their birthdays were, because they had never celebrated them. Each child was allowed to pick any toy they liked from a mini Toy Store that the group sets up. One little boy stood quietly for a long time, just looking at the toys. When gently prompted to pick something for himself, he tearfully told the volunteers, “I don’t have any money.” He had to be convinced for several minutes that the gift was free for him, and it was OK to take it.
Another little boy picked out a baby doll in a frilly dress as his gift. One volunteer remarked on how pretty the doll was, and the little guy agreed, smiling, “My little sister has never had a doll. I picked this one for her.”He’d never received a gift himself, but his first thought upon getting an opportunity was for his sister.

One little girl sat on the steps of the school beginning at dawn on a Monday, waiting for someone to arrive. Her arm had been broken over the weekend, and her family had no money to afford to take her to the doctor, and no transportation anyway. The group just had 2 medical facilities opened up on school campuses to help kids like this poor little girl.

I do not judge these parents. I don’t. The program director told us (as we sniffled loudly into tissues) that most of these parents are working poor. They’re working full-time but they just aren’t making enough so that their families have enough of even basic items. Can you imagine that? Can you imagine working 10-12 hour days and still not being able to feed your kids? Having to tell your daughter to wait until Monday so she can get her broken arm looked at? Every day, they must die inside a little.

I looked at my sleeping son when I came home on Saturday afternoon. He has a refrigerator full of food, drawers and shelves full of clean warm clothes, and more toys than he’ll ever be able to play with. I am so thankful I’ve never had to face that kind of awful, empty feeling. Putting your child to bed hungry and cold and sick.

In a way, I am also ashamed, too. Of the money I waste at Target buying things I don’t really need. Of looking enviously at our neighbors who just went on a 15 day cruise to Hawaii. Of every time I’ve ever passed a homeless person and turned my eyes away.  I feel like I need to do more, give more, help these children and their families more. Our work will continue through the holidays, but I have had some kind of awakening this weekend. There has to be more I can do.
How incredibly lucky I am, how blessed and rich and full my life is. I should be grateful every day for what I have. All my petty complaints about my life seem so selfish. I have everything, everything and more.

So in the end, I am thankful that I have never had to put my son to bed and kiss his face and whisper to him to try not to think about his empty stomach. Yet I am utterly heartbroken that any mother or father has to.

Happy Thanksgiving, little ones. I’m thinking of you and your families this year.