This past week we had the pleasure of serving a lot, a lot of people. The line was long and the faces were many and the energy was really good. Our Mennonite culture has taught us that when you serve you’re actually receiving as much as you’re giving. I believe this to be true. I want our daughter to see that there is beauty in some of the places where others only see grime. 

Don’t misunderstand me here though. I don’t want to whitewash a hard truth. I don’t want to look through rose colored glasses. I know that homelessness is rough. I haven’t lived that life myself, but I’ve pastored some homeless people – enough to know some of the gruesome aspects of living without a dwelling place to call home. People who bounce from one abusive relationship to another abusive relationship because it keeps a roof over their heads. People who sell themselves so they can pay for their tiny apartment. People who sleep under bridges and get physically attacked, but don’t want to tell you details either because they don’t want you worrying about them or they don’t want to remember the moment or both. I’m guessing life is hard for many of them. 

There were people in the line who smelled strongly of bad hygiene. There were people who looked like good mental health was either not an option or something they fought for every day. One woman looked lonely and like she felt abandoned. But generally speaking the people who passed us in that line for food were mostly friendly. Many of them were happy to see us, delighted to see not one child, but two, and they were grateful for the food. I marvel at the difference between the faces I saw at the mall and the faces I saw at the homeless shelter. It’s not a clear cut line between the two, of course. There were people at the mall that seemed alive and people at the shelter who seemed distant, but overall it was flipped. We had positive interactions with the people asking for food and while shopping I noted that people seemed to avoid eye contact and they’d look away if eye contact was made. 

For me, the beauty I saw in the homeless shelter was that though these people didn’t have a lot of physical stuff in their lives, they still carried some joy with them. Enough to share, at least. I found more humanity in the homeless shelter than I did in the mall. 

I got the sense that not a lot of people take their children to the homeless shelter to serve food. I guess I can see that, but I actively wanted to take her with us. And I was thrilled when another mama with a child a few months younger than ours asked if she could take her son. “Yes!” I texted back. So our child was in line with the one other young person who probably makes her the happiest. They both got in on the action.

Both children seemed a little overwhelmed, which also makes sense to me. That’s a lot of faces to see and a lot to look at when the day is almost at an end, but they were both exposed to another section of our society. Both children saw people who others often turn away from and avoid eye contact with. You’d think that being around a whole host of homeless people would bring you down. Yes, it was a long day for the children, but in a world that avoids eye contact so frequently, looking at each individual smiling (or not smiling) face was a true joy. And not just because we were giving to them. It was a joy because we were being seen, too. And we were being seen by people who gave us smiles. Who wouldn’t want to spend an hour of their time doing that sort of thing? Giving food and receiving smiles? It wasn’t a fair trade. We got the better end of the deal.

Our little rump roast doesn’t know that yet. When we go again she’ll likely be overwhelmed again, but in time I trust that she’ll learn to love seeing those smiles and realizing that while she is giving her time, she is receiving more than she is getting.