Feeding the Homeless on the Streets of Seattle: Part 1

OCCIDENTAL PARK, SEATTLE WASHINGTON.
OCCIDENTAL PARK, SEATTLE WASHINGTON. | Source

"For I was hungry, and you fed me. I was thirsty, and you gave me a drink. I was a stranger, and you invited me into your home. I was naked, and you gave me clothing. I was sick, and you cared for m. I was in prison, and you visited me" (Matt. 25:35-36).

Baby, it's cold outside

The frigid air bit into the flesh on my face, the only exposed part of my body. We were stomping our feet and exercising our arms to keep warm, enveloped in layers of clothing, hats, gloves, coats and scarves. The cobblestone square and walkways of Occidental Park were not yet slick with ice, and fortunately, no snow was in the immediate forecast. Light from the parking lot shone on the stark, bare trees in the middle of the square. The bronze firefighter sculptures were putting out an invisible fire in the distance fooling me; I thought they were real people in the distance. The famous totem poles rose into the night shadows with an eerie gloom. It was my first time ministering to the homeless with a group of church friends. We dubbed ourselves "The Sandwich Ministry." I didn't know what to expect on such a cold night. Surely there were places for these men and women to go when it got this cold - you know, missions and such. We probably would go home with lots of stuff we couldn't give away because no one was around.

We had found our spot just a few feet from the parking lot where the light shone on our set-up. Piles of coats, gloves, hats, socks (they really love socks), pants, and flannels lay on a tarp on the ground. We had boxes of sack lunches at the ready. But as I looked around, there was no activity except in the trendy, cozy little bar and grill nestled on the other side of the square. Within ten or fifteen minutes we saw their shadowy figures begin to make their way toward us. Soon our clothing pile was surrounded by very cold men and women sifting and trying on.

And then the square was filled with cheerful voices.

"Would you like a lunch?"

"Yeah, sure man. Thank you. God bless you."


"Ma'am, would you have any water? They turn the faucets off this time of year and I am diabetic, you know?"

"Sure."

"Oh, thank you ma'am, God bless you."


"Can I help you find anything? What are you needing?"

"Well, I really need a hat, and would it be okay if I got some socks too? Oh, oh, this is great. Thanks. Thank you so much. God bless you."


"This is fun," I thought. "They are so grateful. These homeless people aren't the rude, scary, and thankless people they are portrayed to be. I had no idea they could such happy people (at this point I was living on another planet). It felt good to hear genuine gratitude, and to see the joy and relief when they bit into a sandwich or put on a new coat or hat. "We are really making a difference," I thought. "They are warmer and have full bellies."

Our routine is to send our group out by two's into the surrounding area handing out sack lunches. I was too leery that first time, so I stayed and manned our little headquarters in the square. By 7:30 the lunches were gone, and only a few clothing items remained. We packed it in, got into our warm cars, headed to our warm homes with full cupboards, and rejoiced that we'd helped some needy people.

Setting up

Setting up headquarters at Occidental Park, Seattle, Washington.
Setting up headquarters at Occidental Park, Seattle, Washington. | Source
Bread of Life Mission - The Mission with a heart.
Bread of Life Mission - The Mission with a heart. | Source

The Mission with a heart and a clean restroom

The next Sandwich Ministry trip to Occidental Park was mid-spring. We set up in our usual place. There were some new faces in our merry band, so there was a lot of excitement in the air, but also a little apprehension. The evening was chilly (it is Seattle, you know), so we had on coats, but had left our gloves and hats and boots at home.

I chose once again to stay at our tiny HQ in the square to man the clothing and chat with our visitors. A new gal named Kristi stayed with me and we began our ministering. We had some great conversations with our friends on the streets, and heard their stories about the difficulties of getting into the shelters and always being run off. There was some happy chatter as well. And like that last time, our evening was filled with "Thank you's" and "God bless you's."

Soon our teams came back from the byways of the Pioneer district where Occidental Park resides. They reloaded on lunch sacks and made ready to go back out. Kristi and I really had to find a restroom, so a couple said they'd man HQ till we found somewhere. "Good luck, there's nothing out there," everyone said.

They were right. We headed across the square to the trendy, cozy, little bar and grill to use their powder room. Long before we got close, two finely dressed employees met us and said sharply and scowling, "You cannot use the bathrooms here." Kristi explained, "We're from that church group over there and everything is closed. We'll just be a minute." Their reply was "Sorry, absolutely not."

We wandered around a bit looking for an open business but found nothing. Then we saw it - a lit up, dingy, two story, brick, building with a sign reading, 'Bread of Life Mission.' The sign over the entrance said 'The Mission with a Heart.' As we entered we saw the small sanctuary filled with hungry, tired men waiting impatiently for something (perhaps a sermon) to start and end so they could eat and sleep. The mission guy had the love of Jesus in his eyes and very graciously let us use the tiny, and I do mean tiny, bathroom. They had others, but this was close to the entrance. Tiny as it was, it was the most sparkling, tidy restroom I'd ever seen. I was touched that they went out of their way to keep the restrooms so clean for their guests. Of course it is necessary for health and sanitation, but many places don't make that much effort. Unlikely as it may seem, the Spirit was there in that tiny restroom. As we made our way back we realized the mission was only a block and a half from HQ. We made a mental note for next time. We were so grateful.


Trauma and despair

Trauma and despair
Trauma and despair | Source

Would you be willing to feed the homeless in some way?

  • No way. The homeless are homeless because they're too lazy to get a job.
  • I'd like to, but it's kind of scary being out on the streets.
  • I'd rather donate to a mission that feeds the homeless.
  • If I have the opportunity, I would love to feed the homeless.
See results without voting

Entering the darkness

After our detour to the mission, Rebecca asked me if I'd partner with her and do another run on the streets. Kristi and another couple bid us adieu and we went out into the night. Rebecca walked with a purpose; she knew where she was going. We arrived at a dark, closed up, windowless building, at least I didn't see any windows, and there were lots of people milling around. I felt tension in the air. We handed out lunches, or rather they were snatched out of our hands. We heard a few grumbled thank you's, but no one made eye contact or responded to our efforts to be friendly. I was very uneasy. I wondered why these folks didn't come to the square at our little HQ? It wasn't that far. I looked to Rebecca who seemed fairly unconcerned, cheerful, but did not seek out and linger for conversation. She had done this before, many times it seemed. These folks weren't looking for our kind of friendship. I remained tentative, but relaxed a wee bit.

I spotted a middle aged woman a few feet away. She was bundled up tight, standing stalwartly there in the middle of the fray. Though her eyes were clear, they were staring off into a haunting nowhere. She was physically present, but her soul was detached, dissociated - off somewhere one mentally goes when they need a place to separate from trauma and pain. Her mouth was in a slight, tight frown. There was a tiny rivulet coming out of one nostril. "Would you like a sandwich?" I asked. No response, no awareness. She stood wooden, hollow, gone. Perhaps she was on a drug, but I didn't think so. No doubt she had seen horrors on the streets; that she'd been used, abused, violated and traumatized, and if my guess was right, probably that night. I knew that state of being as one who'd also been through a horrific trauma. "Hello darkness my old friend," I thought. "I remember when you hid me and kept me safe until I could trust again." This woman's pain was bringing up a lot for me.

I put the lunch in her hands and asked feebly if she wanted some socks. I guess I hoped to nudge a spark, even an infinitesimal spark of awareness, life, hope, something. I said nothing more, she could not bear it. I felt her despair and I could not bear it.

As I walked away I saw a young woman who was full of energy, cheeriness, and laughter. I realized within seconds that she was probably mentally challenged. I fell in love with her instantly, but wondered at the stark contrast of her joy to the dark, sinister, illicit environment she was in. I gave her a lunch with a cheerful greeting. Considering the atmosphere, it felt something like swearing in church, only the opposite. My cheerful greeting sounded grossly out of place. She took the lunch and cooed with excitement. Suddenly, a gruff and angry guy came over and aggressively snatched it out of her hand. "That's mine. You don't get none, hear?" He already had one lunch, he didn't need another. She didn't bat an eyelash, didn't hesitate at all. She just returned to her frilly, rilly chatter. I was absolutely incensed. I reached into my cloth bag for another lunch. Empty. Rebecca was empty too.

"Rebecca, did you see what that guy did? How dare he! We need to get her a lunch."

"These were the last. There are no more. There's nothing we can do."

"But...but, he can't do that." I was ready to charge him like a bull, but used every ounce of restraint knowing where I was.

"Lori, this is the streets. We can't change it all."

Although there was more happy conversation on the car ride home, on the inside I felt dark, brooding, and really ticked off.

Toto, we're not in Kansas anymore.


© 2013 Lori Colbo

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Comments 9 comments

lifegate profile image

lifegate 3 years ago from Pleasant Gap, PA

Really great, Lori! Ministering to the homeless can be difficult, but thank you for being true to your assignment. Out of it all I took this away - "Unlikely as it may seem, the Spirit was there in that tiny restroom." God works in ways and places we do not expect, but through your faithfulness He is working, even in that man's heart. Keep on keeping on. Looking forward to part 2!


billybuc profile image

billybuc 3 years ago from Olympia, WA

That was beautiful, Lori! It's a different world out there; been there and done that, and what you did should be required of every citizen in this country. Homelessness is one of the great sins of this nation, and ignoring it only makes the sin larger. Thank you for the work you have done and for writing this beautiful and poignant article.


lambservant profile image

lambservant 3 years ago from Pacific Northwest Author

Lifegate, considering your ministry I knew you'd identify. Thanks for your comments.

billybuc, always good to hear from you. It would be nice if every citizen did one act of kindness, as you have been promoting, to someone who is hurting, hungry, oppressed, etc. every day. The Apostle James said,

"Pure and genuine religion in the sight of God the Father means caring for orphans and widows in their distress and refusing to let the world corrupt you." (James 1:27). This means all who suffer under hardship and injustice.


Faith Reaper profile image

Faith Reaper 3 years ago from southern USA

God bless you dear one for your ministry! This is an amazing piece here to glorify our Lord God in helping the homeless. What a beautiful write.

Voted way up ++++ and sharing

God bless you. In His Love, Faith Reaper


sgbrown profile image

sgbrown 3 years ago from Southern Oklahoma

It is a wonderful thing you have done! Most of us have no idea what these people are going through or what has brought them to this state. We need to help those that we can. Life is not perfect, but we can help to make it better. Voted up and awesome!


Jackie Lynnley profile image

Jackie Lynnley 3 years ago from The Beautiful South

I agree with billy, the US can feed the world but never its own...unless it buys a vote. I have never lived around this and too bad since it means so much to me. I really wish someone would start shelters in the country to let these homeless help raise their own food and help build their own shelters and maybe even sell for profit to help in countless ways. The possibilities would be endless.


lambservant profile image

lambservant 3 years ago from Pacific Northwest Author

Oh my gosh Jackie. You are amazing. What a fabulous idea. Honey, you can make a difference in this world. We cannot do something this big overnight and and without help. But all things start with a seed of an idea, and brainstorm the steps to take. Dang girl, write a hub on your ideas.

Love l0ve love to you.


chef-de-jour profile image

chef-de-jour 2 years ago from Wakefield, West Yorkshire,UK

There are many reasons for homelessness but whatever the causes giving hope and help is the best way to relieve the symptoms of destitution. I'm sure if the political will was there with those who are supposed to represent us, things would improve.

Work of this nature has its own rewards - some tangible, some not. You're doing a great job.


lambservant profile image

lambservant 2 years ago from Pacific Northwest Author

Chef, thanks for stopping by. The politicians are doing everything they can to prevent people with compassion from helping the homeless. I've read several articles of late which state that large cities across America are making laws and ordinances to prevent people from feeding the homeless. Michael Bloomburg has set in force a ban on donating food to homeless shelters because of nutritional concerns. Anyone who believes that is his real reason is in need of being more informed about Mr. Bloomburg.

Homeless shelters are able to feed and help homeless indoors where they won't litter or bother pedestrians and have programs often to rehabilitate. What a travesty to hinder such work.

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