(Of course I’ve changed the names, and a few details, to preserve the limited privacy of our homeless friends.)

The HOME Van arrives at the Downtown Plaza, our busiest stop, at 5:45 on Thursdays.  A long line forms for food bags, followed by a line for soup, cornbread and hot chocolate.  A smaller line waits at the front of the van for medicine.  At the back people search through clothes, toiletries and books.  And a few people stand in front of me where I sit near the van, sorting socks to find what suits each customer: “You want short or long, dark or white?”

 
HOME VAN AT HOME

       
                                               HOMEVAN STUFFED WITH STUFF

Old friends, old enemies, and strangers stand in line together, loud or quiet, lively or withdrawn, all hungry, most homeless. Hugs, greetings, insults, jokes, gossip – who’s in jail, who’s in the hospital, what happened at the church dinner the night before.

Sometimes there are angry complaints – “How come you never have batteries?” but more often gracious, generous words – “You are a blessing,” “No, give it to Mr. Watson, he needs it more than me.” (Mr Watson is over 80.) There are more men than women, more black than white, more middle-aged or old than young.
                           
Times are always tough at the bottom; you might think a poor economy wouldn’t make any difference.  But work has long since dried up at the labor pools.  Shelves at the food banks empty quickly every week, and at every agency demand is up and donations down. There are more homeless people now.  The annual count in Gainesville used to find about 800 people; now there are 1500.

We never used to see children at the HOME Van, but now we often do.  Recently Laquita has been a regular customer.  She has a toddler in a stroller, and 6-year-old Shontelle.  Laquita waits patiently in line for food bags for the three of them, each bag with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a hard-boiled egg, an orange, a granola bar, and a bottle of water.

Shontelle stands by her brother.  Her hair is neatly braided in rows and plaits, and she wears the same public school uniform as Amanda – a polo shirt and pants. She watches our motley crew of customers with lively eyes.  Little Franco, bleary-eyed, leaps into the lap of a fat woman in a wheelchair.  Her thin cotton dress falls alarmingly low off her shoulders.  Joseph and Isaiah argue over a place in line, their expletives rising louder and ruder and then subsiding into muttered insults.  Michelle wears all her clothes at once – pants, skirts, shirts, sweaters, her head wrapped in shawls.

Arupa and I try to have a special gift for the children who show up – a stuffed animal, a book, a notebook and pretty pen.  I ask Laquita, “Do you think the kids would like this teddy bear?  She smiles and calls Shontelle over.  Without prompting, Shontelle thanks me and takes the teddy bear to her brother, makes it dance and talk for him.

GIFTS FOR THE KIDS   

More than the children, it’s the parents I ache for.  Living in a car, a church, a homeless shelter, they struggle to give their children a normal life. They are ashamed that they cannot provide, humiliated at taking the kids to a soup line. But the worst is the fear that protective services will take the children away.   
                           
Last year I took Amanda to the HOME Van Christmas drive-out, when we give out the Christmas stockings stuffed by people all over town.  They are white tube socks stuffed with candy, perfume, batteries, flashlights, toys, all sorts of treats that say “People are thinking of you, people care that you are living in the woods.”  With her best company manners Amanda handed out socks and candy canes, and helped eat the cookies.                 

               
 
               HOME VAN CHRISTMAS STOCKINGS                    

 A few weeks ago Amanda and I hosted dinner for the families who were staying at our church.  Hosting is easy.  With another volunteer we put out the food, eat dinner with the guests, and clean up afterwards.  This time there were three families, including four young children and two older boys.

After dinner Amanda went out to the playground with the children, but Darnel, the oldest boy, stayed behind to talk with me and the other volunteer.  He was a comical delight – full of 14-year-old braggadocio and wiseacre remarks. His uncle had moved with him and his younger brother from Detroit in August. They had spent the previous week in a motel, and would move the next week to another church. Darnel was enrolled in the prize-winning performing arts program at one of our magnet schools.  He said school was too hard. “At least you’re not bored,” I said. “Yeah, but I can’t sleep in class, so I’m tired all the time. They should let you sleep if you want to.”

We discussed rules that we think are unfair, and I offered rules against peeing in public.  Darnell thinks those are good rules.  “What can you do if you don’t have a home? You still have to pee.”  “Yeah, but how would you like it if you were walking down the street and some guy had whipped it out and was peeing?” “I’d walk behind him.” “Yeah, but what if he turns around suddenly and it goes all over your leg?” “I’d wash it off.” 

Amanda played with the other kids until well past dark.  The littlest girl admired her earrings and when Amanda told her she had a matching bracelet at home, she said,  “I wish I had a home.” Amanda said, “It’s hard not to have a home.  I wish I could help you.”

I had to stay till 8:30 when the overnight volunteers take over.  Joe came at 7:30 to take Amanda home for bedtime in her very pink bedroom – a hot shower, fleece pajamas, a chapter from the bedtime story, and lights out.     

 
     AMANDA'S ROOM IS JUST AS PINK – PHOTO FROM DIGSDIGS.COM     

 Today is the day after Thanksgiving.  If you are homeless, you may have eaten three Thanksgiving meals yesterday – everybody serves free dinners at Thanksgiving and Christmas. If you are housed, you probably have a refrigerator full of leftovers.

 
TURKEY DINNER BY NOMADCHEF.COM AT IMAGES.GOOGLE.COM

You may feel you have been as thankful as you need to be. But take time today to be grateful for one more thing.  If you are homeless, be thankful if you have no children.  If you have children, be thankful if you have a home.

click for more re homeless kids

click for HOME Van

 NEXT WEEK: I Got Shoes

I'd love to hear from you! Click "comments," below.