Close to Home: A volunteer’s tale

I finally did something I’ve been wanting to do for a good long time: I volunteered at the Redwood Gospel Mission’s Thanksgiving Feast at the Sonoma County Fairgrounds. On the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, the fairgrounds was aswarm with families and individuals taking advantage of the kindhearted goodness that has come out of this local treasure of generosity. I was familiar with the work of the mission only through seeing its name in places associated with the homeless and hungry and with worship. The mission’s large Jesus Saves sign looms over the corner of Wilson and Sixth streets in Railroad Square, so it’s hard to miss, yet it’s easy to bypass.

A friend of mine loves to tell the story of a monk walking a beach where thousands of starfish are washed up on the shore. The monk tosses back the starfish one by one, when a passerby intervenes. “What are you doing?” asks the passerby. “You can’t save them all.” And the monk answers, “No, but I can save this one … and that one…” And so on.

The folks at the Redwood Gospel Mission are throwing the starfish back. One by one, if they are homeless or hungry, addicted or ex-felons, jobless or just going through a rough patch, they are fed, clothed and housed through the programs of this mission. Run almost entirely by volunteers, its services include ongoing recovery programs, beds for homeless, vocational training, jail ministries, outreach events, thrift stores and, of course, the amazing holiday extravaganza.

I was a greeter. As people approached, I handed out programs of the day’s events, which included a hot turkey dinner, games and activities for kids, worship services, free clothes, haircuts, foot rubs and a grocery bag filled with a whole turkey, potatoes, onions, carrots, a loaf of bread … the works. Sutter Medical Center was also there, giving flu shots, screening for cholesterol, checking blood pressure.

“Buenos dias,” I said to a Spanish-speaking family passing by. “¿Sabes adonde van?” Do you know where you’re going? Nearly everyone shook their heads no and reached out for a program. “Muchas gracias,” they said, sincerely thankful. That made me feel useful.

An Asian woman approached, but when she spoke she slid through the cracks in my English-Spanish arsenal; she spoke neither. She tugged on her sweater and vaguely said, “clothes.” “Over there,” I said, pointing to the Salvation Army truck. Then I pointed to Finley Hall, bringing my hand to my mouth with rodent-like chomping sounds. She laughed and said, “Loncha,” being neither Spanish nor English but getting the point across.

When they were well fed, full of prayer and hope, the patrons went onto Grace Pavilion for the bulk of activities and services. I began to get chummy with the hordes who passed by me several times going to and fro.

“Hey, Bob, check it out,” said one guy pointing to his fresh haircut. (I had a name tag on.)

“Lookin’ slick, man. What about your friend?” I asked, referring to his long-haired buddy. “Nah, he’s still a hippie,” he said of his friend with the goony grin beside him.

When my shift was through, I was replaced by a couple and their teenage daughter. They, like all the volunteers, were happy to be there. This is what the Gospel Mission does. It has been doing this for years. And you wonder that the only way it survives is through volunteers, making me wish I had thought about it some years sooner. If you want more info on the mission: www.srmission.org.

Bob Klein, a high school teacher, is a Santa Rosa resident.