The Meaning Of Thanksgiving

I thought that volunteering would be a good way to make new friends, so when we moved to Denver I contacted the Colorado AIDS Project to see if I could help. Most of their volunteers work in their food bank, which is primarily a Monday through Friday job. Evening and weekend assignments are pretty much limited to fundraisers and holiday meals, so I’ve only had two opportunities to volunteer so far.

Yesterday, my job was to drive folks home who did not have their own transportation. Imagine what that would be like trying to lug a frozen turkey and a box of food to the bus stop. The volunteers are encouraged to refer to the recipients as “clients” and to picking up food as “shopping” to help maintain their dignity. Volunteers were all told that we should offer to carry groceries to and from the car for the clients.

One couple that I drove home had a strong impact on me. It was a man and his wife. They each had a turkey and a box of food, which means that they were either both infected, or they were shopping for someone who was. The wife was very gentle when she spoke and the man was as courteous as could be, but was mostly quiet. He was in a wheelchair and used a blanket scarred with cigarette burns as a seat pad. Neither of them smelled of smoke, so I am guessing this is the best they could come up with.

As we drove toward their home, the wife kept telling me how grateful they were for the ride. The man told me what a nice SUV I had, though he also was angry at SUV drivers because one of them had driven over his ankle and crushed it without even stopping. All the while, I could only think about my own selfishness and the things I take for granted.

They lived many miles away and I relied on them for driving directions. As we got further and further from the food bank, I wondered if they even knew where we were going. She knew the cross streets but didn’t know their address. I pressed her for the address, but she just didn’t know it. I thought that was odd until she explained that their new home was an apartment that was miles away from the homeless shelter they had been living in. They hadn’t been there long. She said that it had taken them two hours on three different buses to reach the food bank.

At their apartment, I stacked the boxes on each other and tried to lift the thirty pounds or so of food as best I could. She led me to the stairs that went up to their apartment. They lived on the third floor. I almost didn’t make it, but I didn’t want anyone to help me. I just couldn’t ask them for help. He stayed at the bottom of the stairs while she opened the apartment door. Once again at the bottom of the stairs, I asked if I could help him upstairs, but he wouldn’t hear of it. He just wished me a blessed holiday.

This year I am especially grateful. I am grateful for Paul. I am grateful for my new home. I am grateful for my new job. I am grateful for another year of good health. I am truly grateful to know you all and to have you in my life. I wish each of you love, peace, joy, and good health on this Thanksgiving day.