Our local food bank occupies space in the basement of a United Church, having been bumped out of their previous spot by somebody with more money. There was, at the time, a short lived suggestion that they relocate to the room we use for Dinner, but it wasn't taken seriously because of the lack of running water.
They used to be open 10 am to 1 pm on Wednesdays but a while ago changed to 10 am - 12 noon, and 6 pm to 8 pm every Wednesday. It's a good change, allowing people who work during the day to get over there.
Lots of people in town fall into that category. There are guys living at the Motel who work either as roofers (a job that came last on a recent job satisfaction survey) or chicken catchers.
Chicken catchers catch chickens. Chicken catchers catch ckickens. Chicken cithcers catch chidkcnes.
The chickens are raised in big barns, running around on the floor. When they get to a certain size, it's time for them to be shipped all over the region to farms. So the chicken catchers go into the barn, where the chickens, for several weeks, have been doing what chickens do. The men bend at the waist and pick up three in each hand. They deposit the birds in crates and when the crates are full, load them on a truck. When the truck is full, they drive the truck to the customer, unload it and drive home. Because it's 'piece work', these guys have, at times, been paid $50 for 12 hours' work. That's improved recently because they've had their mileage allowance taken away and their piece work rate raised. Most of them are in their 40s or 50s and most have back or knee problems that keep them from roofing.
So, anyway, the food bank.
Clients are served in a small, utilitarian space by a woman seated at a table who looks at their ID cards, checks them against the register of names, and gives them a number. They step to the window, hand over their number and tell the person in the warehouse how many people in their household.
This is a huge question.
Imagine you're making do with less than a living wage, or on the good graces of "Ontario Works", our provincial welfare system, which pays less than you need to cover the rent, feed yourself and your family and buy all the necessities, let alone go on vacation, own a car, subscribe to a magazine or eat at a decent restaurant.
So when the person who has it in their power to give you food asks, "How many people in your household?" and you know that the answer determines how many boxes of cereal and cans of vegetables you're going to be given, you've got an answer ready. You answer, "We have 4 kids." You don't add that they're all in their 20s and none of them live at home, because if you did, you'd get less food, and you'd probably run out before your two week waiting period expired and you could come back for more.
My gut reaction to this kind of thing is to say it's wrong. Lying is wrong. It's a sin. You're not supposed to do it and I don't understand how you can look someone in the eye like that and lie just to get free food. What I want to do is wait until there's an opportunity and tell you that it's wrong and that you should be honest and good and noble and trust God to provide, because you've done the right thing.
You would smile politely, and maybe nod and agree, and then, in two weeks, do exactly the same thing again.
In his wonderful book, Jesus and the Disinherited, Howard Thurman says:
In his book, The Door Is Open, Bart Campbell quotes a welfare case worker:
In a short time, their clientele has grown to the point where there's a 3 month waiting list for an initial visit. They prioritize those who have no GP but, he matter-of-factly says, "People lie."
If your family doctor is an hour's drive away and you don't have a car, you probably haven't been looked at in years. And if you're hurting or you know something's just not right and you're scared, you lie to get help sooner.
This is another one of those things that I will probably never quite resolve. I know what I believe, but most of the time, I have to let it pass. I've been lied to. I know that. Move on.
My husband was talking to a long standing Salvation Army officer. This man grew up in the corps, his parents were officers, working on the streets of a big city.
My husband asked, "How do you know whether people really need help? How do you decide?"
The response was, "My dad always said, "If in doubt, help 'em out."
Works for me.
r
They used to be open 10 am to 1 pm on Wednesdays but a while ago changed to 10 am - 12 noon, and 6 pm to 8 pm every Wednesday. It's a good change, allowing people who work during the day to get over there.
Lots of people in town fall into that category. There are guys living at the Motel who work either as roofers (a job that came last on a recent job satisfaction survey) or chicken catchers.
Chicken catchers catch chickens. Chicken catchers catch ckickens. Chicken cithcers catch chidkcnes.
The chickens are raised in big barns, running around on the floor. When they get to a certain size, it's time for them to be shipped all over the region to farms. So the chicken catchers go into the barn, where the chickens, for several weeks, have been doing what chickens do. The men bend at the waist and pick up three in each hand. They deposit the birds in crates and when the crates are full, load them on a truck. When the truck is full, they drive the truck to the customer, unload it and drive home. Because it's 'piece work', these guys have, at times, been paid $50 for 12 hours' work. That's improved recently because they've had their mileage allowance taken away and their piece work rate raised. Most of them are in their 40s or 50s and most have back or knee problems that keep them from roofing.
So, anyway, the food bank.
Clients are served in a small, utilitarian space by a woman seated at a table who looks at their ID cards, checks them against the register of names, and gives them a number. They step to the window, hand over their number and tell the person in the warehouse how many people in their household.
This is a huge question.
Imagine you're making do with less than a living wage, or on the good graces of "Ontario Works", our provincial welfare system, which pays less than you need to cover the rent, feed yourself and your family and buy all the necessities, let alone go on vacation, own a car, subscribe to a magazine or eat at a decent restaurant.
So when the person who has it in their power to give you food asks, "How many people in your household?" and you know that the answer determines how many boxes of cereal and cans of vegetables you're going to be given, you've got an answer ready. You answer, "We have 4 kids." You don't add that they're all in their 20s and none of them live at home, because if you did, you'd get less food, and you'd probably run out before your two week waiting period expired and you could come back for more.
My gut reaction to this kind of thing is to say it's wrong. Lying is wrong. It's a sin. You're not supposed to do it and I don't understand how you can look someone in the eye like that and lie just to get free food. What I want to do is wait until there's an opportunity and tell you that it's wrong and that you should be honest and good and noble and trust God to provide, because you've done the right thing.
You would smile politely, and maybe nod and agree, and then, in two weeks, do exactly the same thing again.
In his wonderful book, Jesus and the Disinherited, Howard Thurman says:
"It is safe to say that the common attitude taken toward these deceptions that have to do with survival is that they are amoral. The moral question is never raised. To raise such a question is regarded as sheer stupidity. The behaviour involved is in the same category as seeking and getting food or providing shelter for oneself. It belongs in the general classification of simple survival behaviour."
In his book, The Door Is Open, Bart Campbell quotes a welfare case worker:
"Of course we know they cheat. If they didn’t they’d be dead by now.”Recently I was talking to a physician who established and runs the new health centre in town. They started last year taking patients who 1. don't have a family doctor, 2. have a family doctor who practices outside a reasonable distance.
In a short time, their clientele has grown to the point where there's a 3 month waiting list for an initial visit. They prioritize those who have no GP but, he matter-of-factly says, "People lie."
If your family doctor is an hour's drive away and you don't have a car, you probably haven't been looked at in years. And if you're hurting or you know something's just not right and you're scared, you lie to get help sooner.
This is another one of those things that I will probably never quite resolve. I know what I believe, but most of the time, I have to let it pass. I've been lied to. I know that. Move on.
My husband was talking to a long standing Salvation Army officer. This man grew up in the corps, his parents were officers, working on the streets of a big city.
My husband asked, "How do you know whether people really need help? How do you decide?"
The response was, "My dad always said, "If in doubt, help 'em out."
Works for me.
r
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