The kids and I have been deliving Meals On Wheels for three weeks now.
We deliver food to homebound folks, most of them elderly and unable to get around, three Tuesdays a month.
The kids help by counting and separating out the food, loading it into the car, and then helping me carry it to the door of each home we visit. Each person usually gets four things: a hot meal in a sealed tv-dinner-type tray, a bread, a milk, and a dessert or fruit cup.
This is something I want to do with my kids to teach them to help those who are less fortunate than we are….though I know our little act of service is a tiny one….
And, since I pulled KB out of public school, its really important to me that she is still around people who aren’t all middle-class white people and can get to know and get along with a wide variety of people (for those of you who know me in real life, our route is in the neighborhood west and north of our church).
Again, I know its only 3 hours a month, but still….we have to do what we can in the midst of a busy schedule.
We love delivering Meals on Wheels.
Everyone has been really nice, but there are three old ladies in particular who take the time to talk to the girls, tell them how cute they are, tell us all about what’s going on with them, and are so appreciative that we have taken the time to bring them food.
And I’ll be honest…. those three old ladies are my favorite.
A couple of times, the old folks haven’t been home when I’ve been by with their meal. I then have to call the Meals on Wheels phone number and report it, and then they immediately contact that person’s emergency contact. This is a neat part of the Meals on Wheels ministry; just keeping an eye on these elderly homebound people who might otherwise not have someone checking on them that day.
So….the first three homes on our route? Sweet old ladies.
Then there’s the fourth home: (sigh).
I don’t let the kids get out of the car for this one.
Its an elderly man who scares me a little. If I could, I’d run up the sidewalk, lob the food through the front door, slide back over the hood of my car like Bo Duke and screech away, tires squealing, but that’s not really the proper Meals on Wheels protocol.
When I deliver food to him, he snatches it out of my hand, grunts, and slams the door in my face.
Good to see you, too, sir, and you are so welcome….oh, I’m so sorry, was I five minutes late with your meal?
But its ok.
I’m not in it for the love.