Magical Kindness Ripples

I believe in magical thinking.

I have always known that I do, and it is something I rather enjoy (most of the time).  My magical thinking manifests itself in a variety of ways and I embrace it.  I do not believe that it makes me irrational or childish (as some might say) – I think it is an extension of my creative brain.

My magical thinking has played a part in a mystery this year.  One that I feared to solve, because perhaps knowing the true answer would make the magic disappear (or maybe cause it to be “less magical” if that makes sense).

 

Here is the mystery:

 

We had another secret donor to the Little Yellow Free Pantry.

 

Boxes and bags would arrive with the same name on the Amazon slips over and over – a first initial and a last name. 

 

Of course I NOTICED it.  I mean, how could I NOT?  The mystery gifts arrived so frequently.  The boxes often contained fun, unusual items from the Pantry wish list, things that more “practical” donors might not choose.  A jar of salted nuts.  Pancake syrup.  Spices.  Chocolate chip cookie mix.  Not things that are strictly NECESSITIES, but items that make eating more enjoyable, and “level the playing field” a bit for those who are food insecure (and make their dinners much, much less boring).

 

Now, in the back of my mind, of course I was curious who was sending these donations.  There were never any NOTES on the Amazon slips, just the same initial and last name – box after box.  After a few months my curiosity got the best of me.  I worked up some courage and sent awkward messages to anyone I knew whose first initial and last name matched the Amazon slips.  I sent a neighbor this odd message, “Are these amazing donations for the Little Yellow Free Pantry that come with Amazon slips saying (first initial last name) from YOU?  I just opened another one - sunflower seeds, ramen, OLD BAY, spices, and hot sauce!!”.  I soon got this reply, “I'm sorry to say, not me. I know there are many of us with this initial and name!”.  I asked another possible contender, and after denying it was her, she said, “Aww. I wish I could claim it”.

 

And I will go ahead and confess here that in my heart of hearts, I connected this mystery donor to the other donor that I became long-distance mystery friends with – E.A. Raven.  She, like this new person, sent box after box of delightfully chosen items for the pantry.  Only, she included NOTES, which upped the ante and always made me smile.  And back then, Amazon was much more civilized and had a feature where recipients of gifts (me in these instances) could scan a QR code and write a short thank you back to the giver!!  So of course, with each E.A. Raven delivery, I would excitedly scan the QR code and send her (or was it a him???) a note back.  I didn’t know who I was writing, but I knew I was very grateful for them.

 

I didn’t find out who E.A. Raven was until after she had passed away.  Her sister Ann emailed me telling me of the death.  The email was so kind – “My sister Betty Raven loved donating items to your charity. Sadly, she passed a week ago. I wanted to inform you so that you understand why she stopped donating.”

 

The story of the strange long-distance friendship and the incredible woman’s kindness to a charity so far away became the topic of a piece in the Washington Post.  Talented journalist Theresa Vargas interviewed me and E.A. Raven’s family and shared the beautiful story of kindness.  And when the piece was published – boxes flooded in.  People from all around the country read the piece, were inspired by E.A. Raven’s kindness, and joined in the magic.

 

Just some of the MANY boxes that arrived after the first E.A. Raven story was published in
the Washington Post (December 2023)

I didn’t know it at the time, but one person who saw that Washington Post article about E.A. Raven realized that perhaps supporting the Little Yellow Free Pantry was just the thing she was looking for.  She was not a “people person”, but wanted to give back to the world.  She, like almost every person I have ever met, WANTED to be kind, but needed an outlet.  Could the Little Yellow Free Pantry and Kindness Activist fill the need??

 

Ironically, E.A. Raven had also found out about Kindness Activist through a story written by Theresa Vargas and published in the Washington Post.  The one she read was about the Santa Project – the delightful (and large) project we undertake each December.  Children write letters to Santa and mail them in a special box at our home, and Santa writes each child a letter back (there’s no AI in kindness, these are all written from the heart).  Each child also receives a gift/gifts that they requested.

 

Sweet letter writing finishing up his note to Santa (2025)

E.A. Raven had seen that story, been enthralled by our mission, and wholeheartedly jumped on board.

 

And now, it seemed, another person had seen the E.A.RAVEN story and been inspired to join in!  Talk about a kindness ripple!

 

But it was not my amateur sleuthing that solved the mystery.  You see, one day I woke up to an email that revealed the answer…  Someone had contacted Kindness Activist to ask what was the best way to make a monetary donation.  They signed the email with a single initial…  And the email address included the same last name as the mystery Amazon slips.

 

My heart leapt!!!  Could this be the person????  I replied far too quickly (and wrote far too much…):

 

“MYSTERY SOLVED!!

 

(Initial and last name) - you do not know how hard I have tried to find you!!!  

 

The donations - oh the beautiful pantry donations!!  All with the same first initial and last name.  

 

Every time I open one (or a pantry crew member opens one), the mystery:  SAME NAME.  Who is this person?  Do I know them???  Are they a neighbor?  Are they someone I have met in passing???

 

Are YOU the person of the mystery pantry donations????  If so, THANK YOU!  You have sent so many amazing donations for the pantry and helped us feed the community.  You have helped refill the storage shelves when they were getting low, and you have made so many people happy with the thoughtful choices you send.  And you have made ME happy (not that that is the goal...) by being so supportive of our mission.  THANK YOU!

 

Thank you for reaching out.  This was the BEST morning email to wake up to!! “

 

I sent that overly long email July 15^th.

 

And I waited.

 

And waited.

 

No reply.

 

Did I scare her away??  Oh, I shouldn’t have been so effusive.  But I couldn’t help it – I was so EXCITED!!

 

So, I kept waiting.

 

And 8 days later, a reply came…

 

“Yes, (first initial last name) is me.  I’m happy to have provided you a mystery.  I can’t resist them, too!

 

I should thank you for providing me with a way to help.  I’m not at all a “people person”, so volunteering seemed impossible.  But the December, 2023, W. Post article about your pantry showed me a way.  I donated via another user name through 2024 and into 2025 when I opened this new account.

 

The “shopping” is strangely soothing for me; very useful when I’m stressed.  Also, it has made me reconsider my attitudes toward food.

 

Anyway, please send me an address or your Venmo information.  Either way is fine. Thanks!”

 

THE MYSTERY WAS SOLVED!

 

Of course, there were still so many questions I wanted to ask.  But I also wanted to be respectful of her time, and didn’t want to overwhelm her.  I wrote back:

 

“I am so glad that you replied.  And am so happy to have solved the mystery!!

 

And you referenced the Washington Post article from December 2023, the one about the OTHER mystery donor, E.A. Raven, right.  Seeing that reference made me tear up.  Secretly, quietly, I called you the "new" E.A. Raven.  I didn't want to say it out loud for fear of jinxing anything, but your kindness is so reminiscent of her that I couldn't help but think of her.  Because of that article, I got to meet her sister.  She and her husband even came to visit the pantry while they were on a trip!  And the story of her sister's generosity lives on through that Post story.  

 

I get the not being a people person thing.  I get "over peopled" sometimes and just need a break.  I am glad that we can provide this outlet for you to give back.  Without people like YOU, we could not feed the village.

 

I was doing an interview last evening and I tried to explain that running a program based on donations not only helps the recipients, but it also provides an outlet for the donors.  That is something we never considered when starting Kindness Activist, and honestly, I still have to stop myself sometimes and try and reframe it for me.  I worry that I ask too much, I don't want it to seem like we are begging.  But a kind supporter recently said, "Susan, stop.  Your asks provide an avenue for people to help.".  And that is true.  I really believe that deep down, we all want to be kind.  Sometimes it is just hard to find avenues to do it.

 

Thanks for revealing yourself.  As much as I adore a good mystery, this reveal was lovely!!”.

 

She wrote, “The E.A. Raven article made me think that I could help in a way that worked for me.   Like her, I think food shouldn’t be boring, so I buy all the spices, hot sauces and peppers that I can to make these prepared foods more interesting and to allow the people who can cook to be able to be creative.

 

Now, in 2026, I buy from Amazon only for your pantry.  I try to organize my orders so that I never pay a penny in shipping (without Prime) and make Amazon deliver on as many days as possible. For example, I place a $35-plus-change order late in an evening and then have 24 hours to contemplate what other items/timing of subsequent orders would necessitate separate shipments.  My “best” order last month required shipments on 4 different days. See how much amusement your wishlist provides!”.

 

Oh how I giggled.  That last nugget of information solved another part of the mystery – why when we got donations from this lovely woman, we would get them 2 or 3 days in a row.  It was because she was sticking it to the man!!!  Working the Amazon system in her favor.  I love it!

 

In the month since this lovely story developed, this amazing human has also sent a monetary donation to Kindness Activist.  It is hard to express how thankful we are for the support. 

 

And the whole experience has been a reminder of how important KINDNESS RIPPLES are.

 

Little did E.A. Raven know, when she was resting in bed in Indiana ordering food for a pantry some 500 miles away, what a PROFOUND impact her kindness would have.  I reckon she thought she was sending just ketchup.  Or sardines.  Or cake frosting.

 

But what she was really sending was love.  And hope.  And, of course, kindness.

 

Her generosity inspired so many others.  The stories shared in the Washington Post have been read by many and resulted in the pantry receiving box after box of much needed supplies.

 

Thank you, Theresa Vargas for sharing the stories of kindness.

 

Thank you, E.A. Raven for being a beacon of love and light in what sometimes feels like a dark world.

 

And thank YOU, no longer a mystery donor.  Your kindness means the world to us.  We are grateful for your support and delighted to have solved the mystery!  Who knows, maybe someday we will end up in the same place at the same time…  Perhaps if I magical think it – it will happen!

 

Oh, and another amazing wrinkle to the kindness story.  We will be seeing E.A. Raven’s sister and brother-in-law again soon.  They are passing through our area and we will get together.

Meeting E.A. Raven's sister Ann the first time

 

I am smiling even writing this story.  It all seems so improbable. 

 

But it is true – I swear it is all true.

 

Because kindness begets kindness begets kindness.  Ripple after ripple.

 

The end (but never really the end…).

 

(Name of donor kept a secret to respect her privacy, and as one of my favorite songs says, to “Let the Mystery Be”.)

 

Washington Post article about the Santa Project:  Letters to Santa are left daily at this home. Mrs. Claus is ready. - The Washington Post

Washington Post article about E.A. Raven:  Boxes kept arriving from a mystery donor. An obituary revealed her name. - The Washington Post

Iris Dement singing “Let the Mystery Be”:  Let The Mystery Be - Iris DeMent H.Q.

Just some of the amazing donations that came in after Washington Post ran
Theresa Vargas' final column, which included the magical story of E.A. Raven and her kindness
(June 2024)

Coffee, Stars, and Just a Touch of Magic

I got to chat with a new pantry guest early this morning.

Well, they are not a “new” guest I guess.  I mean, I have seen them before. But this is the first time they were willing to engage with me.

The interaction started like the previous attempt I made had.  Today I saw them at the pantry, and it was when I had just woken up so I had not been out to fill it yet.  Usually it is almost empty the first thing every morning, so I assumed they didn’t find much in it.

I saw them walk to the corner and stand, waiting for the light to change.  “Good morning!” I said loudly from the porch.  “Was there any food in there??”.

They turned to look at me.  But no reply.

“Did you find any food in the pantry?  Do you need something?” I tried again.

They raised their hands and gestured to me.  “Ahhh yes!” I remembered.  “This happened the last time I tried to talk with them…  Maybe they are Deaf…”.

I gestured back.  Hungry?  Food?  Drink?

They gestured something I did not understand – it looked like a number 3, then a “w” drawn in the air.

Hmmm.

I signed, “Deaf??”.

They stared.

And then they spoke. 

But they spoke very quietly.  On a busy street corner.  When I was standing on the porch – not near them.

“What?” I asked, hoping for more volume.

Again, WORDS, but what?

I hurried down the stairs, hoping if I was close and could hear, we might share a common language.

“Are you hungry?  Would you like some food?  Comida?”  I asked, adding in a couple of gestures for good measure.

“What?  Me?  Eat?” was the very quiet reply.

I tried again, and they whispered another answer.

“We have food.  Do you want some?” I tried.

“You have fruit??” I thought I heard.

“Yes, we have fruit!  Banana??   How about a cup of hot coffee?” I offered.

“Coffee??  Are you ok with that??” they timidly replied.

“Yes!  Yes!!  Coffee!  Please wait here.  If you want, sit here,” I pointed to our front steps.

“Sit?  Are you ok with that??” they asked politely.

“Yes, yes.  Sit if you like.  Coffee – milk and sugar??”.

“Yes.  Milk.  And sugar.”

I rushed in to make a coffee and gather some food that might work for them.  From their clothing and bags, they appeared to not have housing, so I chose things that could be eaten without heating if necessary, and threw in a can opener in case they needed one.  I also picked up a backpack in case their current bags were too full to hold the food.

When I came back outside they had indeed accepted the offer to sit on the steps.  And they had turned on their phone to listen to music while resting in the sun.

“Coffee!” I said as I presented the steaming hot cup and sat the basket full of food choices down.

“I have everything…  But do not have my passport…” they nervously explained.

Ahhhh, maybe that was the confusion!  Perhaps they thought they needed to register or qualify for help here.

“Oh no!  No passport needed.  No papers.  This is not the government.  Not the state or the county.  This is just us.”

I am not sure that was clear them, but they accepted the coffee and I sat down with them.

We chatted as they very carefully added the sugar and cream to their coffee.  I learned that they have two children.  I learned what country they came here from.  I learned that they are working with a great local agency to get support, but do not quite understand how it all works.

“Do you have employment??” they asked.

“No, sorry.  We do not have any jobs here.  But your case manager will help you with that.”

It was clear that they really want to work.  They were so gentle and sweet.

“I don’t want to go to jail.  When you sit, the people, the people with uniforms, they come to talk.  Mostly the police.  I do not want to go to jail.”

It’s so sad.  Horrible to have to have that constant fear of getting into trouble.

There was some confusion over how things work.  “I have SNAP.  But the card…  The card does not work…”.

I tried to figure out what the problem was, and explained if they walked to the county building just a few blocks from our home, they could get help with their SNAP card.

“No, I go there, but you have to go 5 times.  Always new people.”

And somehow, somewhere, they had learned this "fact" that they thought was true (and I guess might explain in their mind why their SNAP card is failing...):  if you find a penny and pick it up, your SNAP stops working.

“Well, this is not SNAP.  This food is FREE.  No papers.  No SNAP.  Just free,” I explained as I offered them the basked again.

As we chatted, another sweet pantry guest approached.  I made sure to offer our new friend first dibs on everything I had chosen specially for them.  They really only wanted a water, Gatorade, and the coffee.  The second guest then looked thru the loot (I had brought up really special items – a summer sausage, box of Girl Scout cookies, and more).  That person was so happy!  When looking at the cookies, they said, “Ninos!” and I smiled and said, “Si, ninos!”.  Those kids are going to be happy when they come home from school.

I needed to get back inside to start my work day so had to excuse myself.  But not before my new friend told me that I was very nice, and that they really like our “Just Be Kind” sign.

“You see the stars??” they said, pointing at the sky.

“Oh yes!  Every night.  I love to look at the stars.”

“And the moon,” they added.

Ah yes.  The stars and moon.

No matter where we live.  Whatever country.  Whatever house or apartment or street corner we call home.

We can all look up at the stars and the moon.

Before I came back inside the guest taught me a trick.  I will share it here with you.  They tell me it works even better with bigger paper, but sugar packets is what we had on hand.

I love that they shared this magic with me.  Sharing coffee is easy.  Sharing conversation is fun. 

But sharing magic??  Well, that is something very special indeed.

Happy 5th Birthday Little Yellow Free Pantry!

Who could have imagined that 5 years ago, when we cut the ribbon and opened the Little Yellow Free Pantry, it would become the symbol of COMMUNITY that it is today.  I for one would not have predicted how big this labor of love would grow.

In those first weeks the pantry was open, no one came.  No one knew the resource was available.  Cans of peaches and boxes of cereal would stay on the shelves a few days before finding their way to a new home.

We put up signs, oh did we put up signs.  We had signs in several languages asking people if they were hungry, explaining we had free groceries.  We hung signs all along our fence and at the local bus stops.

But still, few people came.  No one knew.

Then slowly, somehow, the word started to get out.  And magically, guests began to come.

And they haven’t stopped since.

I often say that people come to use the pantry 24 hours a day.  That may sound like an exaggeration, but it is not.  People come at 1 am after finishing a late-night shift.  People come at 7 am on their way to work or school.  People come at 3 pm for an afternoon snack.  People come at 6 pm to get food to make dinner for their families.

And the donations – donations for the pantry arrive 24 hours a day, too.  Often when I wake up and check the donation bin on the porch before work, there are new items in it.  Amazon and Costco deliveries come almost every day. 

It is hard to explain what the pantry means.

Of course, it is a resource for food.  That is the obvious.  But it is so much more.

It is a place for friendship.  It is a place for community.  It is a place for gratitude and acceptance.  It is a place for diversity.  It is a place for caring and a place for kindness.

I will be honest - 25-year-old me didn’t picture 60-year-old me sitting on my front porch steps chatting and serving a hot meal to someone experiencing homeless.  Or knowing how a guest who rents a room nearby likes his coffee and running down to make him a hot cup on a cold day.  Or talking with people who live in their cars or at the shelter or in a house that holds multiple generations of family. 

We have met so many amazing people through the pantry.  There’s “lentil man” – big surprise, he loves lentils.  There’s the little baby who has come to the pantry her whole life – first strapped onto her mamma’s back with a colorful cloth, then in a stroller, now walking on her own.  There’s the person who won’t take any money we offer, but happily sat with us on Christmas day just talking for an hour. 

And the donors.  The donors are amazing.  If you follow our stories, you know about E.A. Raven, the patron saint of the LYFP.  But you might not know about Pat Walkup, who donates bag after bag after bag of nutritious, tasty food.  And Whitney Engstrom, who kept sending food even after she moved to Hawaii.  And the kind person who set up an Amazon subscription to shelf stable Almond Milk to be delivered.  And “snack man” – who walks to the pantry on a break from work and fills it with perfectly arranged treats.  There are also the people who get food from the pantry, and also bring what they have to share what they can so that others might eat, too.  There’s Duffy who bakes amazing cookies to share.  The Girl Scout troops who keep us stocked in cookies.  And the many, many others who donate so much to keep the pantry alive.

And the Pantry Crew – the small but mighty group of amazing humans who keep the pantry running when we can’t.  And Danyi – who has spent HOURS breaking down boxes from donations to prepare them for recycling and cheerfully greeting guests and donors.  And the sweet people who seal bag after bag of rice and beans.  And the kind family who pours oil into jar after jar, so that donations of big jugs can help many families cook.

To most people it looks small.  After all, it is just 2 little shelves.  But those shelves feed a community.  Over $87,000 worth of food is donated and given away every year here.

But to me, even more important than the food is the people.

People who come to the LYFP get more than nutrition. 

They get respect.  And variety.  And a listening ear if they want to talk. 

That little box has changed lives.  Lives of donors.  Lives of guests.  And most certainly my life.

Happy birthday LYFP.  Here’s to many more.

The Myth of the Can Opener

Ugh.

I hate it when we are out of can openers for the Little Yellow Free Pantry.

And no, I don’t hate it for the reason you might think. 

I am guessing you might think that I hate when we run out of can openers because we give away so many, and if we have none, pantry guests will not be able to open the canned food they receive here, so they will be hungry.

 

But that is not why I dislike announcing we need more.

 

I don’t like to ask for can openers because I fear my ask will perpetuate the myth that all people coming to our free pantry are experiencing homelessness.

 

And that in the bigger picture, that all people experiencing food insecurity are without housing. 

 

But from what we see daily, that couldn’t be further from the truth.

 

Because the people we meet when they stop at the LYFP are as diverse as it gets.

 

They are white.  They are black.  They are Latino.  They are Asian.  And they are everything in between.

 

They speak French and Spanish and Arabic and English and Chinese and so many more beautiful languages.

 

They arrive on foot and by car and by rental e-bike and tied to their mamma’s backs with colorful cloth and on scooters and in trucks and in strollers and in cargo vans.

 

They come on the way to work and at dinner time and on the way home from school and in the pitch black of night.

 

They live in apartments and houses and group homes and shelters and cars. 

 

And yes, some live on the streets. 

 

Some ARE experiencing homelessness. 

 

But honestly, the majority just need FOOD.

 

They have jobs.  They are hard working.

 

But they also have bills.  And rent.  And insurance.  And need to buy gas to fill the tank to drive the kids to school.

 

And a paycheck only goes so far.

 

So, maybe they swing by the LYFP to see what is available. 

 

Maybe they pick up some rice or a cake mix or applesauce or pasta.

 

But most of them, the majority, have a can opener at home.

 

They are hungry.  And they are grateful.

 

Grateful to be treated with respect. 

To have choices (some that they never see in more traditional pantries). 

And to have a resource that is open to all, no questions asked, no paperwork to sign, no red tape.

 

They are thankful.

 

And we are thankful.  Without kind donors around the country, our pantry could not continue.  Which is why I write today to say…

 

We need a dozen can openers.  Please.

 

Other things we are low on and need to restock are:

 

·       Jars of peanut butter of any kind

·       Cans of mixed vegetables

·       Cans of potatoes

·       Cans of beans of any kind

·       Cans of peas

·       Cans of carrots

·       Single serving cups of instant mashed potatoes

·       Cans of mushrooms

·       Dried beans of any kind

·       Pancake syrup

·       Pop-Tarts

·       Capri Sun or other brand of individual juice pouches

·       Individual servings of coconut water

 

You can find our Amazon wish list at the link below.  Everything ordered from the list ships directly to our home and is shelved inside.  We refill the pantry multiple times daily and pull from the storage shelves.  This system ensures there is variety in the pantry so people have choices.

 Little Yellow Free Pantry Amazon Wish List

Our neighbors thank you.  YOUR neighbors thank you.

 

And we thank you.

One Can of Sardines

As 2025 comes to a close, I am thinking of kindness.  Of so much kindness that I was honored to receive, witness, and do this year.

More specifically, I am thinking of the small acts of kindness.  The ones that are easy to overlook.  But if we squint – if we take time to notice them – they are actually changing the world.

I would like to tell the story of one of those small acts of kindness.  One that, most definitely, changed a life.

We have a dear friend that we first met through the Little Yellow Free Pantry.  She was a pantry guest and now has become a very valued volunteer who puts in many hours supporting our organization.  She has explained to us many times how the food from the pantry saved her life.  She had nothing to eat, and chance brought her to the “yellow box” as she likes to call it.  She wrote to me, “I still remember when the feeling of hunger repeatedly led me to your yellow food box, and feeling the peace of mind after receiving food. I have also seen many visitors with thin faces eagerly walk towards your food box, feeling the joy after receiving food.”  She knows the feeling, and can now witness it in others.

She, like many people in our area, is an immigrant.  I find such beauty seeing her experience life in America thru “new eyes”.  So many things she witnesses through her volunteer work with Kindness Activist are firsts for her.  Christmas caroling – oh, that was so fun to see her discover.  “I thought this was only in MOVIES, but it is real!  We sing!  All together, we sing for neighbors.  Such beauty!”. 

And giving warm clothing to strangers.  She first saw the winter gear displayed in front of our home and benefited from it.  She needed warm clothes and felt so fortunate to receive them.  But now, a couple of years later, now she not only receives the much-needed clothing, but she shares it, too.  I have seen her quite literally give a stranger the shirt or coat off her back.  The gloves off her cold hands.  She wrote to me, “We supply clothes for the unknown, and supply winter clothing.  People get hats, scarf, gloves, hand warmer.  They stand in the snow, the smiling on their faces no money can buy.  That was real smiling from their heart and every cell, kindness is not only a word in America, it is a real life here.”

Small acts.  Not flashy.  Not newsworthy.  Tiny acts of kindness that create ripples.  Ripples that are spreading, creating even more kindness.

For a long time, this friend basically survived on canned sardines from the Little Yellow Free Pantry.  They nourished her, and she ate tin after tin of them.  One time when she was at our home volunteering, a delightfully kind neighbor, Gary, walked up with a donation:  tins of sardines.

I called for our friend to come meet this donor.  I introduced them.  And oh – her smile.  It was brighter than the sunshine that afternoon.  “This man,” I explained, “This man is bringing sardines to help fill the pantry.”

She was so grateful.  She thanked him profusely and explained the story of how she had survived on the same exact food from the same exact source.

The two have now become friends.  The donor and the recipient, both thankful for one another.  He helped arrange an art show for her which fueled her creativity and her soul. 

One afternoon recently I came home to find this volunteer working hard on our porch as she so often does.  We had a long chat, and then she told me, “Today, I brought something for the yellow food box.  I brought what Gary brought.  I brought what helped me live.  I brought a can of sardines.  It is only one can, I do not have much.  But I am thankful for Gary, for the food box, for the sardines.  So, I share the sardines.”

Small acts of kindness.

Small, but life changing.

Making a difference in the world.

Making it a kinder place.

One winter coat.  One cup of cocoa.  One gift from Santa.

And one tin of sardines at a time.

Happy holidays to all.  May 2026 bring peace, joy, and kindness.  May we keep our eyes and our hearts open and notice even the small acts of kindness.  For it is those acts that will change the world.

Attitude Adjustment (By Way of a Can Opener)

 You know those days when everything, and I do mean everything, gets on your nerves?

 

I was having one of those today.

 

Logically, I know the main reason for it:  I TAKE ON TOO MUCH.  It is overwhelming.  I can’t do it all, can’t keep it straight.  Things fall through the cracks.  And I “fail”.  At least in my view I fail.

 

Logically, oh that good ol’ logic again, logically I know that it is not failure.  I am simply overwhelmed, have bit off more (far more) than I can chew.  No one could keep up the pace and not drop some balls.

 

Logically.

 

And yet I keep trying.  Keep adding to the to do list (then losing the list).

 

So today was one of those days.

 

What was bothering me was the PANTRY.  It is really busy right now, and each time I went out to check it I would find something annoying.

 

First – expired stuff.  Like – fruit bars that expired in 2024.  You don’t want to eat ‘em??  Neither do the people coming to the pantry.

 

Next – dog COOKIES.  Yes, a pack of cookies that looked just like “human cookies” but in the fine print were for dogs.  In a pantry that serves everyone – people who do not read or speak English, children, people who cannot read at all.  DOG TREATS.  No.  I don’t want a guest eating a whole pack of dog treats.

 

Then – a POT and a PAN.  No matter how many times I explain in various social media groups that we do not, that we cannot, accept things other than food and toiletries, people persist.  They put things in the pantry that they think would be helpful to others – bags, plastic silverware, books, a pen yesterday, empty take-out serving containers, plates, bowls, clothes, shoes…  Often it is things that they do not want to throw away, so they put them in the pantry or on the little shelf underneath it that is meant to hold the basket while we fill up the shelves.  And we just can’t handle it.  I don’t know how to explain that it is not our mission.  We can’t be the one-stop-shop.  And we most certainly are not Goodwill.  So don’t leave various stuff here (I always insert a “please” after this rant…).

 

So, steaming mad, I marched out to pick up the pot and pan that someone had left.  And I was confronted with…

 

BROKEN GLASS.

 

Big chunks of thick broken glass, and many, many tiny shards of it, on our sidewalk and in our lawn.  It looked like maybe the person who left the pot and pan also tried to leave a measuring cup or a drinking cup and it shattered on the sidewalk.

 

The same sidewalk that, in just a couple more hours, school kids would be walking down and riding their bikes on. 

 

So, instead of eating lunch on my short break from work, I swept up glass.  And I did it with a very bad attitude, cursing under my breath. 

 

I stomped back in the house, knowing that I had to get back to work.

 

Then the doorbell rang.

 

I opened the door to find someone I hadn’t met before.

 

“Is David here?” they asked with an accent.

 

And instantly, I knew.  I am not sure how I knew, but I knew.  This was the pantry guest that David told me about a couple of weeks ago.  David explained his country of origin and that he lives in his car.

 

“No, David isn’t here, can I help you?” I asked.

 

“Oh, umm, I was just wondering…  If you had any food??” they asked sweetly.

 

“You are _____, aren’t you?” I asked.  HOW I remembered their name I have no idea.  I can barely remember anyone’s name, and somehow this person, someone I had never met and only heard a brief story about 2 or 3 weeks ago, THEIR NAME I knew.

 

They smiled.  “Yes, yes I am.”

 

“David told me about you!  Let me go get you some food.”

 

I filled a bag with things that I knew could be eaten without cooking, plus some snacks, treats, and drinks.  And I put in one of my very favorite special items to hand out.

 

I presented them the bag and pulled the special thing out.  “See this?  I love these.  They are really good!” I explained as I held up a summer sausage. 

 

“Oh yes!  You cut and eat, right??” they clarified. 

 

Yup.  Cut, eat, and yum. 

 

I was rushed to get back to work, but really wished I had more time to talk.  “Hey, do you have a can opener??” I asked, knowing that some of the cans I had given them were not flip top.

 

“No…  No.  But I will use a knife,” they explained.

 

“No!  No.  Seriously, we have can openers!  Let me go grab you one!”.

 

They were so kind, so sensitive.  They didn’t want to take a can opener.  “Leave it for others,” they said gently, wanting to be respectful.

 

“Well, just know that we have more than food.  So if you need ANYTHING, come here and ask, ok?  Clothes.  A coat or hat for winter.  Boots, shoes.  If you have a need, we might be able to get it, so come ask,” I explained as they smiled.

 

They asked about a computer to use to help with a job search.  I pointed out the library just down the street and explained I think anyone can walk in and use a computer.

 

“You can leave that heavy bag of food here if you like.  Go down to the library, use the computer, and come back and pick it up,” I offered.

 

“Oh no, no.  I have the car,” they reminded me.

 

Ahhh yes.  They live in their car… 

 

“Oh that’s right – you have a car.”

 

“Yes ma’am, my car is running on hopes and dreams,” they said.

 

Hopes and dreams.

 

Those fuel their vehicle.

 

Heck, hopes and dreams fuel the world, don’t they?

 

The guest left.

 

I closed the door and turned to go back to work.

 

Tears in my eyes.

 

Hopes and dreams in my heart.

 

And a renewed sense of purpose.

 

 

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