Cold Hands, Warm Hearts

Recently I spent the night in a shelter. Don't worry, I didn't do this because I don't have a home and this was the only place that would take me, although that is a true fact for some of the others who I stayed with. I went and spent the night as the host. This shelter is a temporary one that bounces between churches throughout the winter months. It houses the people who cannot go to other shelters either because they are full, or the people have been denied access to them.

I made a lot of stew and brought rolls and some chocolate chip cookies along. We set up cots in the church and put two blankets on each. We opened the doors and welcomed people in. There were 8 guests this night. One drove, one came in a taxi, one got a ride and the rest walked. There is no bus that comes very close to this location, so it was quite a walk in the bitter cold night air. It wouldn't be bad, except some of our guests have to cary everything they own with them each day. I was so happy to meet our guests, but shaking their icy hands made me sad.

I thought it was fun to have a big dinner with 11 of us chowing down around a table, but then I wondered if it would still be that fun if this was my only option. Every night. To eat whatever was given to me and not have a choice. To sit at a crowded table with strangers instead of family. To not get dinner till 9 o'clock at night. I think the fun would wear off quickly. This made me sad.

I enjoyed the conversations, but it made me wonder how many conversations these new friends of mine got to have with people who would actually listen. Sometimes I think our willingness to listen is based on the appearance of the speaker. That though made me sad.

I was happy enough to sleep on a cot with my sweatshirt as my pillow for a night, but I wondered how much I would like it if this was my every night. To sleep on a cot that someone else slept on the night before. Someone who may or may not have had a shower this week. Someone who doesn't have that many clothes options to change into because they can only carry so much each day. One of the guests had a respiratory issue. He asked if we had a chair he could sleep in. I wish we could have given him a bed with enough pillows to prop himself up as he did not look very comfy, but he was so thankful for the chair we shared with him. Another guest with a bad back asked permission to sleep on the floor instead of on a cot as she said it felt better on her back. I was happy to help her set up her blankets on the floor, but sad that an adult would have to ask permission to sleep on the floor. I was thankful to be a deep sleeper and slept through the snoring of many of the guests, but I felt bad for the light sleepers in the room. Many said they did not sleep well this night.

I was humbled as I cleaned up in the morning and spoke to a guest who slept on the floor in the entry way of the church. She was so thankful and said that this was the best place she could imagine sleeping. A solid floor, a warm blanket, some Christmas lights, and a nice view. What more could she ask for. I could think of plenty of things, but was so humbled and grateful for her attitude.

I take a lot for granted. Today I am choosing to value what I have.