My office at my new church is the closest office to the outside entrance. That also means it is the closest office to the emergency food pantry. Our regulars know the drill. They know to request the food the day before they come. They know to bypass the pastor’s office and head straight for the secretary’s. They know to wait on the landing for the food to be brought to them.
But it’s two days before Thanksgiving, and it’s not all regulars today. An older woman peered into my office, wearing a crocheted poncho over several layers this cold morning. “I’m here to fill out a form?” It was both statement and question. Before I could answer, our secretary called cheerfully to her from the next office. “Right over here! I’ll help you!” A few minutes later I heard a different voice–a younger woman–saying, “Oh, thank you soooo much!” She drew out the “so” long enough for me to know she needed this food. I don’t know her situation–we don’t ask questions–but the relief in her voice sounded to me like a mother who now has enough food for her children.
Our business manager came in to my office and said, “If you don’t mind, I’m going to leave for a few minutes. One of the people who came for food doesn’t have a car, and I don’t want her to have to walk home carrying these groceries.” Of course I didn’t mind. She had already told me, “I don’t think I’ll get anything accomplished today but give out food. And that’s just fine with me.”
I am blessed to be serving alongside staff members who understand that helping is part of their job, and blessed to be serving a church that agrees. I am blessed to hear gratitude echo through the halls.
All day the words have stuck with me: “Right over here! I’ll help you!” And I wonder how different our community would be–how different our world would be–if every day we found reason to say it.
I’m right over here. I’ll help.