It's Happened!

Oh.  My.  Goodness.

 

It’s happened.

 

Such a mix of feelings – elated, scared, relieved, excited… 

 

The IRS responded – KINDNESS ACTIVIST IS AN OFFICIAL 501C3!!

 

I have been doing Kindness Activist work since December 2015, close to a decade.  It started small – writing stories of kindness that I witnessed, did, or received.  As I often explain when I speak to groups about kindness – I was in a sad place in my life.  I looked for kindness as an experiment really.  I wondered if there was actually kindness out there, and if there was, did it make a difference in the world?

 

That social experiment has made a huge difference in my life.  It has given me a new lens through which to view the world.  It has made my life more fulfilled, happier, more full of joy.  It has introduced me to people I would never have met had I not gone on this mission.

 

And now it is “official”.

 

I’ve been wanting to make Kindness Activist a 501C3 for years but have put it off.  It seemed so daunting and scary.  But many people have nudged me and pushed, and I knew it was the right thing to do.  It just required taking a big leap to go for it.

 

There are so many people to thank.  The people who kept at me – reminding me it was not only necessary but it was possible.  The amazing lawyers who assisted me pro-bono to get the corporation established (required before filing for non-profit).  The people who accepted offers to join the board.  The people who cheered and hugged along the way.  The people who show up to volunteer to unload trucks and wrap gifts and decorate trees and tie ribbons to our fence...

 

And the most amazing, supportive partner on the planet, David Gaines. 

 

When I started writing stories of kindness, I had no idea how much our lives would change.  I didn’t know our basement would turn into a de facto grocery store to supply the Little Yellow Free Pantry.  I didn’t know that traveling in November and December would become almost impossible due to the Santa Project.  I didn’t fathom that our basement apartment would be filled with coats and sweaters to hand out all winter in Project Warmth.  I could never have imagined that strangers would knock on our front door or honk and wave as they drove by.  I never pictured a neon green Just Be Kind sign on the Big Yellow House.

 

But David, you have stood by my side through all of it (and more).  You have held me when I cried, rubbed my back when I was exhausted, and laughed with me in the rain.  You put in soooo many hours on that dang IRS form 1023.  My dream of kindness has changed both of our lives, and I thank you for riding the wave with me and being the very best “husband for scale” this human could ever have asked for.

 

The official letter came today.  We only filed 13 days ago, and the instructions say it can take up to 180 days to get a response.  I was hoping to hear quickly but never imaged it would be in under 2 weeks.

 

Have not had time to process it all yet, so I am unsure of how/what changes now.  I promise to keep you updated and to keep the kindness rolling.  I promise to keep sharing the stories of kindness. 

 

But for now I need to take a breath.  Pause a moment.  Take it all in.  Drink a bit of bubbly. 

 

And shed a few more tears of happiness. 

 

Cuz it happened, it really happened!

Jumping Blooper

To Be Known

Met someone new tonight.

We were sitting outside on the porch steps sorting items for our big sale.  A person pushing a baby stroller, sans baby, rounded the corner.  We smiled and said hello and instead of walking by, they came up to us.

 

“Just got out of the hospital,” they told us.  It wasn’t until half an hour later that they showed us the still clean hospital band.  But when they said “just got out”, I think they meant JUST got out.

 

We had a nice chat.  Well, mostly we listened.  The stories were a bit confused but if we paid attention we could follow.  The most pressing issue seemed to be diabetes.  In the beginning of the story, we thought they had recently been diagnosed with diabetes, so expressed our sadness at that.  But then the tale turned, and they DIDN’T have diabetes after all.  We expressed our relief.  Only, then they announced that they were going to sue the hospital for giving them an illegal shot of insulin that “gave them” diabetes.  Ahhh, back to expressing regret.

 

I asked if they were hungry and they said yes.  “What would you like?” I asked.  “Oh, anything you’ve got!!” they told me.  We had already talked about them not having housing, so I figured something warm would be a treat.

 

I was ready to leave David to chat while I went down to make the guest dinner.  I told them it would take about 5 minutes and they said, “No worries!  I will look at my “Little House on the Prairie” book.  They held up a special edition magazine featuring the actors from the TV show “Little House on the Prairie”.  Flashbacks to watching Laura and Nellie and Ma and Pa.  But a total surprise as reading material for this guest.

 

I popped inside to make dinner.  Hormel Completes are excellent in these situations – all you have to do is microwave them for 60 seconds and they are ready to go.  I chose a meatloaf and mashed potatoes meal and put it in to heat.  I also started to brew a cup of coffee, the requested drink.

 

And I set about looking on the pantry shelves to find food suitable for this guest.  A guest who had everything they owned in a baby stroller, and who may (or may not…) have diabetes.

 

I filled a bag with: crackers, meat stick, jerky, toothpaste, toothbrush, canned mangoes, can of ham, Spam, can of sardines, nail clippers, jar of instant coffee, Sun Chips, and a can opener.

 

I balanced all the items and went out to present the meal.  They were very happy with the choice and I joked about what a “good cook” I am.  I explained that I had collected some things they might want, and they could say yes or no for each item.

 

Well, every single thing I took out of that bag was met with a smile and a big YES.  And I realized – ahhhh.  They have been in the hospital.  I bet they lost everything they had during that experience and now are having to collect it all again.  Hard.

 

They stayed and chatted for quite a long time.  They are a veteran – Marines.  Had been stationed in Germany.  Don’t like to be in large groups because loud noises disturb them.  From the south.  Lost a brother to drugs. 

 

I think really, they just wanted someone to listen.  To sit in the sunshine with cars passing by and listen, without judging.  Without advising. 

 

And isn’t that what we ALL want?  One of our favorite singers, Carsie Blanton, has a hauntingly beautiful song called, “Isn’t It All You’ve Ever Wanted”.  The lyrics are:

 

TO BE KNOWN

all the melancholy on the wind
low as a prayer spoken
you feel it blowing through you
everywhere your heart is broken
haunts you like a shadow when
you’re walking through the city on you own

all the ghosts who holler in the night
will try to make you lonely
and when in desperation
someone says that you’re the only one they want
you’ll go to sleep beside them
but you’ll wake up all alone

isn’t it all you ever wanted to be known?

remember when you thought
somebody else was waiting for you
and all the emptiness would end if only they’d adore you
how you had a child’s way of dreaming
don’t you miss it now you’ve grown

and isn’t it all you ever wanted to be known?

all the melancholy on the wind
you feel it shuffle through ya
how it breaks you open
til you’re singing hallelujah
never know the gravity of grace
until it hits you like a stone

isn’t it all you ever wanted to be known?

 

 

When it was time to make their exit, our new friend told us we were “family” now.  They packed up their new treats carefully and told us about a great spot they had found to score free stuff.  They had seen the sign for the upcoming sale and said they would see us there.  They invited us to attend an event this month about overdosing where they would be giving out $50 gift cards.  They told us they were going at 3:00 pm to get in line (several hours before the event) to make sure they were one of the first 100 people and get a gift card. 

 

We took the empty coffee cup and dinner plate back and said goodbye.

 

I think we will see them again. I hope they come back. 

 

I mean, we are family now, right?

 

To hear Carsie singing “To Be Known”, click here:  Carsie Blanton To Be Known

 

Special thank you to the donors who graciously give food so that we can have the honor of handing it out. 

Dreams of Mangoes

I am sorry I got frustrated by you before I even met you.

I apologize.

Thursday, September 5^th.  Having a busy day – filling up the pantry first thing in the morning and while on short breaks from work – but I can’t seem to keep up.  Like, every time I fill it, as soon as I come back inside, I see another pair of legs and feet in front of the open pantry (legs and feet are all we can see from inside the house).

So, when I filled the pantry and someone came to get food immediately after I came back inside, then when YOU came not 2 minutes after that, I was a bit frustrated.

I am sorry.

But instead of stewing, I took a deep breath and went outside into the sunshine. 

“Hello!” I said loudly as I crossed the yard to the pantry, so as to warn you that I was on the way and not startle you.

You were a stranger.  You looked gentle.  And the large bag on your back, coupled with the knit stocking cap on this warm autumn-ish day made me think, “Hmmm, I am guessing this person is unhoused.”

I asked if there was anything you didn’t see in the pantry that you needed.  You stared at me a bit blankly, so I gave some examples.  “You know, like canned meat, vegetables, fruit, drinks, meals you can just heat up…  Or toiletries,” I explained.

“Toiletries?  What do you mean by toiletries?” you asked genuinely.

“Oh, like toothpaste.  Or deodorant,” I told you.

You didn’t start giving me a list of what you would like.  Instead, you looked at me with gentle eyes and we stood a bit in silence (well, as silent as a busy corner can be with cars and buses whizzing by).

“I want to explain…” you started.  You didn’t sound embarrassed, but it felt like you needed to clarify.  “I don’t have FIRE yet.”

Fire. 

Ah, my suspicion of not having housing was correct.

“That’s ok!” I replied.  “Do you have access to a microwave?”

You shook your head no.  “I am not living on the street, but, you know, living…”.

“I understand, no problem at all,” I told you, hoping that you could sense that it really was not something I would judge you on.  “Would it be ok if I go inside and get a few things you might like?  I will bring them out and you can choose what you would like”.

You looked at me, very surprised and perhaps overwhelmed.  I smiled, told you to please wait 2 minutes and that I would return.

I rushed down to the pantry storage area and quickly looked for items that I thought would be good for you.  Canned meats.  Canned fruit.  Crackers.  Peanut butter.  Raisins.  Fruit cups.  Chapstick.  A can opener.  Drinks.  And I ran back outside, hoping you would still be there.

You were. 

“Here, I brought some things I thought you might like.  I will show them to you one by one.  Just say yes or no if you want them, I promise I won’t have my feelings hurt if you say no,” I explained before started the “show and tell”.

Can of chicken – yes.

Can of Spam – oh, you told me you hadn’t had Spam in a long time.  You debated it, but it went in the yes pile.

Can opener?

Ah, this is where you opened up.  This is where I got to know you.  Thank you.

You explained that you didn’t want the can opener.  You couldn’t quite put it into words, but I believe you were telling me that you don’t need excess.  You are a minimalist.  And later during our conversation you made such a brilliant point about how people get so attached to things that we miss the opportunities in front of us to interact with humans.  I so agree.

I think you wanted the interaction more than the food, really.  Sure, you took a few items, but honestly, not much.  When I showed you the small box of raisins, you asked if I knew anything that raisins were good for.  “Well, I think they might help you poop…” I said.  You grinned and put your hand out to accept the raisins.  (I hope I was right with that advice.  I am afraid to google it.  I might have had it backwards…  If they make you constipated, I apologize again…)

When I held up the Mint Girl Scout cookies you got that glimmer in your eye that so many of us do when we see the recognizable green box.  Only, you were not excited for you to have them, but rather, you knew a person who would really like those. 

“Take them to the person!” I encouraged.  “It can be a gift!!”.

You considered it, but declined.  You know, minimalist and all.  Plus, as you explained, “I don’t have any storage, no shelves”.  Yup – carrying your life in the big red pack.

You were concerned about me.  When you asked if other people came here for food, I said yes, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.  You explained how some people who come here might have mental health issues – maybe PTSD.  You asked was I sure I wanted to have so many people around here?  I smiled.  “Yes, I am sure.  This pantry has been here for 3 ½ years.  I have met lots of people!  And yes, some people do have mental health issues.  That’s why I am careful to say ‘Hello!’ from waaaay over there,” I pointed, “So that I do not startle anyone.”

You want a job.  Are looking for work.  You told me about something you like to mention in job interviews:  I would like a job where they send me into outer space.

Ahhhh – outer space.  Peace.  Quiet.  Shining galaxies all around you.  Wrapped in infinity.

When I showed you the can of mangoes, you hesitated.  “Mangoes are delicious!” I encouraged. 

“Yes, I know.  I had mangoes recently.  But those would be a SPECIAL TREAT.”

 

Ahh, a “special treat”. 

I thought that meant that those were going in your red bag.  That you might sit down this evening, thinking of how you can build fire in this environment where you are having trouble finding wood to burn, and ponder life’s mysteries as you savored the fruit.

I was wrong.

The special treat would wait.  You didn’t take the mangoes. 

Maybe, like the human interaction vs. the food, the mangoes were not the real objective.

Maybe the IDEA of mangoes.  The DREAM of a special treat.

Maybe that is the goal.

May you have fire soon.  May the friend you seemed worried about reply to your email.  May you somehow fish your wish of going into orbit.

And may you dream of mangoes.

 

If you would like to support the Little Yellow Free Pantry, the Amazon wish list can be found here: Little Yellow Free Pantry Wish List .  Items most needed at the moment are canned fruit of any kind, peanut butter, and single serving packs of cereal.

If you live in the DC Metro and would like to drop things off, the wish list is a good indicator of what we can use.  Any brands are fine.  We cannot accept opened or expired items.  Please do not put anything directly in the pantry.  Instead, put it in the tan and green plastic bin on our front porch.  That system allows us to keep better track of what we have and to distribute it more evenly to guests.

Thank you.