Generals get the credit. They plan the campaigns and move the pins on the map and bring about victory. Their names make the newspapers. Yet, years afterward, some soldier in the ranks recalls and affirms a buddy of that time who did the little thing that provided encouragement or survival for a certain day. This has been my concern of the pandemic. I can’t help the sick. Around though, are the hungry and homeless that are part of the fallout. What’s my contribution? I do give some to an organization that effectively provides food. That helps, yet the outcome seems to just put me on a list of whom they ask for more. My name can remain unknown: my action needs to be worthwhile.
I remembered and checked on a story a son told of an action he took 20 years ago during the Iraq War. He had a civilian job in Kuwait. U. S. soldiers were sent into a port city and then transported across the desert in large open trucks. They were going to a war zone and wore battle gear complete with weapon and ammunition and they were supposed to carry a number of canteens of water. When weight reached a certain point, they chose to have fewer canteens. Sometimes the trucks broke down. The young men were arrayed in battle stance on the sand in 120 degrees while repairs took place. At some point, my son realized as he made his required rounds that more water was needed. He took to carrying cases in his truck. When he came upon a stalled transport, he would pull off the road, get out with his hands up, and explain to the lieutenant who came up with guards and rifles that he had water if it was needed. “Yes, sir. Thank you.” I’ve wondered if some veteran ever told that story about being thirsty and water was provided?
So I was back to what can I do? When I leave church, a needy person is always standing at the stoplight to the freeway. I try to avoid eye contact, not really wanting to roll down my window and give money. However, the church sells preordered meals for the congregation, a good solution for me as a single person and also for families. It would be easy to order two and food would certainly be welcome as a hand out One week I gave it to man in a wheelchair with a sign, “HELP MY FAMILY.” The horn behind kept me moving. This Sunday I was the first and only car at the light. “Here’s your lunch.” The unkept man looked amazed, took the bag, and walked to the car that pulled up behind. Then he came back to my widow. With an almost toothless grin, he called through my window, “Thank you, I’m gonna eat this. If I can do any thing for you, just let me know.” The order had come down through the ranks, “Feed the hungry,” and I had done what I could.
..for I was hungry and you gave me food.” Matthew 25:35
Let Me Tell Ya 