St Francis food pantry volunteer experience

So, this week, I got a feel for the St Francis Food Pantry both as a volunteer and as a guest.  Friday I showed up just after nine o'clock in the morning and found Jerry (that day's volunteer coordinator.)  He immediately put me to work helping the guys unload the trucks of donated reclaimed food from local grocery stores.  We separated it between baked goods, produce, and grocery.  The donation is weighed and documented and the dry goods are sent to the aisles for the shelf stocking crew to sort it onto the shelves.

The produce is gone through to separate it to different types and is cleaned and prepped.  It is stored in the refrigerator and right before the public area is opened to that day's guests, the produce is brought back out and the produce area is stocked.  The scraps of bits that were really bruised up or really wilted is set outside in an area where local animal farmers will pick it up and feed it to pigs and chickens.

The group of people I worked with on Friday is absolutely priceless.  They were all retirees who had worked together so long that they were like family.  They razzed each other as if they were siblings, (in fact, several were); and as soon as they found out that I could take some ribbing and dish it right back, they included me in the teasing. 

There is a frantic time when all the pickup trucks of donations are being unloaded and sorted to their different areas; then we cleaned up this large empty area that had just a few pallets of food in it.  A couple of the guys who were filling me in on how the pantry works told me that that area would be filled up again before we left and this food would be distributed in the next couple of days.  Sure enough, the truck showed up from Feed My People food bank and the flurry of activity began again.  The meat was stored in the freezer right away and the buns in the refrigerator.  The non-perishables were left on the pallets in the back storage area for the shelf-stocking crew who would go through them and put them on the shelves.

The Friday crew has worked together so long that they have their own areas they work in. Each area has a system developed to make it more efficient, and they don't usually mess with each other's space.  I don't have a usual spot yet, so I just did what they told me and floated from area to area as they needed me and tried not to step on any toes.  Each area of volunteers was so willing to train a new person and give pointers on how to do things efficiently and safely that it was easy to pick up the process.

When there is a lull in the action they take a break together and have coffee and snacks.  They welcomed me right into the system of volunteering and invited me to come back again.  Whenever possible, I will join that same group--they showed that volunteering is not only fun, it keeps you young.  Having a purpose to your life is rewarding and will help you live a happier existence..

SNAP Volunteer Day...and a free meal, too!

I'm stuffed!  I ate way too much, and I ate every bit of what was on my plate.  It was the best meal I had all week, and it was free!  Did I mooch off family or drop in on friends?  No.  I just did a volunteer day over at The Community Table in Eau Claire.  If you've read my earlier posts, you know that the volunteers and staff at The Community Table cook and serve the meal, eat with the community members who come for the meal, and then clean up the mess after.  It's pretty much like working a potluck in the basement of the Lutheran Church; but the menu is planned, it is on the first floor, and there are members of all religions and traditions working and being served.

By the time I got there, stations were set up in the kitchen and different projects were happening in different areas.  One station was working on chopping vegetables for the Ramen noodle salad, a station was working on cleaning and drying lettuce for tossed salad, and one station was busily dicing eggs for the egg salad.  I was quickly dispatched to make the dressing for the ramen noodle salad and was given a young helper named Zach to be the ramen noodle master.  His job was to open the packets of ramen and bust up the noodles.  We called it "rage against the ramen."

There is no time wasted and no food wasted in that kitchen.  Kim guided us through the recipes, the serving and the cleanup with minimum fuss.  We even had some time to prep some fruit for the Sunday meal and clean some potatoes for the Monday meal.  Between sharing the labor, we shared a lot of laughter.  The mouths were moving as fast as the hands--it was like preparing a meal with an extended family of strangers.

There was a man who played the piano in the corner.  He came with binders of music and went from one song to another without taking much of a break between them. At first, I thought there was a radio in the dining area, then I realized it was just one man.  He was fantastic!  He must have played for about an hour.  Then he just packed up his music, got a tray of food, and sat down to eat.  Another man took his place at the piano and started plunking out a blues melody.  It was wonderful!

After the line dwindled down to stragglers, a few stayed to serve and the rest of us caught our meal.  That is when the reality of The Community Table sets in--you get to see where we as a nation are failing people.  I discovered that poverty has no race.  It has no age.  It has no gender.  Poverty can strike any one of us.  I sat there thinking that if I didn't have insurance, I would be one health crisis away from being on the other side of the counter.  What if I had a condition that manifested itself behaviorally and I couldn't afford my medication?  I could be the woman saying, "Don't talk to me!  Just trouble!  Just trouble!"  I could be the parent there with my cognitively disabled child getting her a healthy meal.

Without a decent job with decent insurance, I could be the person who had just finished my meal, brought my plate back to the counter, packed up all my worldly belongings, pulled my hood back over my head, and went back out in the rain.