There But for the Grace of God Go I


Last night I volunteered w/ my industry group at one of the DC women’s shelters.  It’s not something that I do often-admittedly when I was last on the committee I wasn’t that involved, but now that I have had to fight to have my company pay for my industry involvement, I’ve vowed to be more active.

So after our committee meeting, we headed to the shelter in a less than stellar part of DC (the shelter is, ironically, above a liquor store).  I’m nervous going in there-I had to park several blocks away (my mom would kill me if she knew, and actually, the boy probably will once he reads this) and walk alone.  I’m somewhat used to being in cities where I don’t know if my nerves are worthy or if I’m just being paranoid, so I put on my standard “brave face”, head high, eyes averterted from looking at anyone directly, purse under the arm, perifreal vision in overdrive and long, quick hard and determined steps. That’s when I heard the gun shot, sooooo I walked a little faster.  Sometimes a girl’s gotten listen to her gut.

There was actually a big turnout of committee members, and we were setting up while the residents waited patiently in the other room.  While I’m busy, it’s ok.  But it’s when we finally wait for the residents to come in, quiet timidly often times, that I’m not sure what to do with myself.  But I realize they are as uncertain how to react to us as we are to them. 

We always begin by celebrating birthdays that have occured over the past and current month.  Each of the women recieves a gift bag full of goodies they have requested (info provided to us by the staff).  After that, we enjoy chips, cupcakes and other snack food that we’ve brought and play pictonary with a prize tables of donations and freebees.  One of my co-workers actually had several fleeces and jackets that she was trying to donate, so I brought those and boy were they a hit! 

Anyway, since it’s Christmas we also had Christmas gifts for each of them.  The women who head it up from our group did a tremendous job and their bags were stuffed full.  It’s at this point that I begin to become very concious-I don’t want to talk down to them, after all they aren’t stupid, I don’t want to pity them b/c I’m certain that is not what they want, and I don’t want to seem unapproachable or arrogant.  And yet, I’m not sure how to act.  I have no idea how these women became homeless, but I know they still deserve to be treated well.  I look over at one woman, probably about 35, very attractive, well kept for being on the streets, sweet, and well spoken.  So much so that I momentarily wonder if she’s actually staff.  But she’s not.  And I can’t help but wonder how she got here.

Pictionary is what helps.  I immediatly jump in and take on the role of Emcee as it were.  The ladies, all of us, begin to loosen up.  They love this game and tonight it seems (much to my relief) that they can all read.  This is not always the case, and you find yourself trying to gently help them out w/o letting them know you know.  Afterwards we start to sing carols.  I purposely put myself beside some of the ladies (who are seated) as I realize that we are almost segregated in a middle school dance sort of fashion.  I’m paried up with one of the residents on “Twleve Days of Christmas” and I realize she is as much a ham as I, and we just go with it.

By the end of the night I realize I have not smiled so much in I don’t know how long.  And the ladies-God, they are always so very grateful and appreciative.  I think that they are strong enough to be humble, and to be able to be thankful and appreciative.  They tell us over and over how much it means to them, how thankful they are for us, how much fun they have had (and they mean it too!) and give us blessings.  I can’t help but think that I am the one who is thankful.  I’m glad I’m able to not only give back, but (and maybe this isn’t the best thing to say, but everyone thinks it) actually see my acts being appreciated. 

And I realize how blessed I am.  I have friends and family whom I love and am loved by, a roof over my head, food in my fridge, and a job that’s……well, it pays anyway :)  For a moment I feel guilty for having all of it, but then I realize I have no reason to feel guilty.  I have worked hard for this life, and continue to do so.  So I won’t feel guilty.  But I do look at these women and think - there but for the grace of God go I.  If you don’t know what I mean, stew on it a bit.  It’s one of my favorite sayings.

Does this mean that tomorrow I won’t worry about paying off my credit card or be fussy about having nothing to wear?  Of course not-I’m human after all.  But when I get really uptight over it, I can remind myself that I’m not that bad off.  And while I may never be rich, or in a position to have a shopping spree in Neiman’s just b/c it’s Thursday, I am still quite blessed.  And I will continue to try to give back.  To let these woman know they are not unnoticed.  And to remind myself that life is more than black.berries and Jimmy.Choos. because I will admit, sometimes I need a little reminding.


2 comments on “There But for the Grace of God Go I”

  • a writes:

    *sniff* That’s wonderful! I’m glad you had fun, and that you got this gift right before Christmas :)

  • Jaime writes:

    Jay was talking about the trip to the Shelter at the Board Meeting the other day. You should send him this; he would LOVE to see that the trip made an impact, not just to the Shelter residents but to the committee members as well.

    Okay, official buisness over…

    Beautiful.

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