It's all happening.

In November, Fr. Michael, Katelyn, and I spoke at a Mass at a Franciscan parish on Long Beach Island. The parish is always very generous and takes up collections for us, so a contingent is sent every year to explain about the Inn and get people interested in the cause. Katelyn and I each wrote a couple pages about our experiences, so it occurred to me I should publish mine here. A parishioner, Jane, called the Inn in December to let us know she had been inspired by what we said and had gotten some other members of her retirement community interested as well and would like for us to come to a tea to give them more information about how they could get involved. We just returned from the tea with over $600, about 10 winter coats and sweaters, bags full of much-needed toiletries and, best of all, toilet paper (we have been going through a shortage at the Inn). The women at the tea were very interested in our work and the people with whom we work. We encouraged them to come to the Inn to see the good that their donations do, and they invited us to come back in the spring. It was an awesome experience, and it was such an honor to be one of the people who inspired these women to help.

On a more personal note, the girls and I have decided we are going to become athletic superstars. The goal is currently a half-marathon, with potential for a full marathon depending on how the first few weeks of training go. I am up to 2 miles, so I still have a long way to go, but we are very excited about the training!!



Here is the talk I gave in November, in case that should interest you:

Good morning! My name is Emily and I am a member of the Franciscan Volunteer Ministry, which is a yearlong volunteer program that has placed me at the St. Francis Inn, a soup kitchen in northern Philadelphia. I have been working at the Inn and living a few houses away from it since the middle of August. In the past 2 ½ months, I have been blessed to share in the lives of hundreds of my brothers and sisters in the Kensington region of Philadelphia. From celebrating birthdays, new jobs, new apartments, and new relationships to struggling with addictions, car accidents, violence, and the loss of jobs, apartments, and relationships I have seen so much in such a short time.

Until I came to Philadelphia, I had no concept of who “the poor” were. In the tiny town where I grew up, it seemed to me that everyone had a house to go home to at night and food on their dinner table. I had seen people sleeping on park benches and in subway stations when I visited New York City, but I naively assumed that they were the only poor people out there. Now that I have been living in Philadelphia, I have come to find that while I have all the material items once could ever need, I am poor. My friends and family back home-all poor. My fellow volunteers at the Inn are also all poor. You, my brothers and sisters, are also most likely poor in one way or another. I am poor in courage-other people at the Inn step right in to break up a fight or stand up to difficult people-not me. I’m the one standing in the corner with my hands over my eyes waiting for it to be over. But my point is, where I am poor, others are rich. I have the patience to sit and listen to people talk for hours, where others may be unable to. Our guests at the Inn are poor in their material needs, but are rich in humor and humility. There is a regular guest who refuses to tell me his name, but will intelligently discuss philosophy and ethics with anyone who will dare to take him on. Another guest is so rich in love that he greets me every day with a huge smile and says “Good morning sweetie,” and actually means it. On days when it is hard for me to be cheerful, he can always get a smile out of me.

Once I came to understand this concept of rich and poor, it was so much easier for me to see the people I serve meals to daily as my brothers and sisters, all created with the same purpose: to love God and one another. I changed from being one of the crowd who would scoff at Zacchaeus in today’s Gospel reading to one who would rejoice with him that the Lord picked him out of the crowd. Another experience I had recently brought this idea even closer to my heart, but let me explain a little bit about the Inn first. We serve a sit-down meal every day, and large amounts of time and work go into the preparation of each meal. Each day, one person is in charge of coordinating it all, and is called, ironically, the coordinator. The coordinator sees to it that there are beverages and desserts, as well as bread for our guests to take home. The coordinator also assigns jobs and oversees any visiting volunteers, and just generally makes sure things run smoothly. On top of all that, during the meal, guests can speak with the coordinator to ask for toiletries, take home meals, canned goods, diapers, and anything else that they might need.

This past week when I was coordinating the meal for the day, we had finished serving the meal and were beginning to sweep the dining room when Jamie, one of the women who works at the Inn, called me over to talk to the only guest left in the dining room. I was ready to close up and go home for the day and part of me was hoping I could just inform him that we were closing and show him to the door. As I got near him, I saw that he was slumped over in his chair, barely eating. I sat down across from him and asked if there was anything I could do for him. He explained to me that his name was Francisco and when he had been sleeping outside the night before, someone had stolen his shoes. I looked beneath the table and saw that he was wearing a pair of too-small, black, women’s orthopedic shoes, which he told me were all he could find. His socks were so filthy that you could barely tell they were originally white. He asked me if I could get him clean socks and shoes that fit. When I brought him a pair of socks I explained to him that we don’t keep shoes at the Inn, but that I could give him a voucher for shoes from the thrift store. The Inn also staffs a small thrift store called St. Benedict’s, as a means to get clothes to our guests that need them. Three mornings a week we hand out vouchers that entitle the bearer to one free change of clothing from the thrift store and our guests can also request things they need, like jackets, blankets and, most importantly for Francisco, shoes.

I asked Francisco for his ID so that I could write his name correctly on the voucher. He again hung his head. He told me his ID had also been stolen and he had nothing. He very slowly fished around in one of his pockets and produced a hospital bracelet, which indicated he had been discharged just two days prior to the day I met him. I saw something else on the bracelet that made me pause. He was born in 1979, the same year as my oldest brother. I instantly thought of my brother, Andy, and imagined him sitting in front of me-dirty, hungry, depressed. What would I want someone to do for him? The idea of him in the state in which I saw Francisco made me want to cry, but also made me all the more determined to try to help Francisco. I explained to him the services the Inn provides: meals, toiletries, clothing vouchers. I also told him about the free clinic just up the street that allows people to come in and take showers. I helped Francisco pack up the rest of his food, offering him a little more to take with him, which he refused. I don’t know if Francisco used his clothing voucher to get new shoes. I don’t know if he made it to the clinic. I do know, however, that I did everything I could to help him, just as I would have wanted someone to do for my own brother. Because, really, Francisco is my brother, just as you are all my brothers and sisters as well.

Our first reading today speaks of the intense love that God has for all that He has created. It is with this same love that he also designed each one of us in a special way so that our wealth and poverty would be balanced by the wealth and poverty of others. He designed us as many parts of the same body, each made to help the others, which is what we do at the St. Francis Inn. The Inn is a place where people are loved and appreciated for who they are, not what they have or don’t have. We share what we have and make it possible for others to share what they have with those who need it.