On Sunday afternoon the youth of St. Stephen’s and St. Paul’s came together to play a game of Ultimate Frisbee and raise funds for Hurricane Sandy relief efforts.
We collected $261 in donations. It’s a modest contribution, perhaps, but every single one of those dollars matters. I can say that with the conviction of first-hand experience.
A few days earlier, I’d traveled to Brooklyn with a group of St. Stephen’s young adults to lend our aid to those in need. We delivered a van full of supplies – donated by parishioners – to an apartment building one block from the water on Coney Island. There, in an unoccupied apartment, we helped to set up and staff a distribution site.
As we carried armfuls of toilet paper and paper towels from van to apartment building, passersby pushing empty carts eyed our donations with great interest. We were truly worried that the van would be broken into for toilet paper.
Each and every one of those $261 might buy two rolls of toilet paper. Or perhaps buy the gas necessary to deliver them. Three weeks after the storm hit, devastated stores are nowhere close to reopening. Rebuilding will take months or years.
Many thousands are still without heat. What will their Thanksgivings be like, I wonder? Can you comfortably fall asleep on the couch if it’s not a few degrees too warm in the house?
To suggest that I should count my blessings this Thanksgiving feels trite. Shouldn’t I do more than that? True gratitude leads not merely to contentment, but to action.
I have so much. How do I share my abundance?
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