When my wife suggested I deliver Meals on Wheels once a week for First Presbyterian Church, I wasn’t exactly excited about it. A part of me thought there can’t be that many people actually going hungry in our affluent society, but – mainly to please her – I’ve been making deliveries for about a year now. What I’ve learned has surprised me.
The biggest lesson I’ve learned is that the program helps satisfy a hunger greater than that for food. People crave human contact and connection even more than food. And this is true not just for people on the receiving end but for those doing the giving as well.
I started off quickly making my rounds. My regular route is the Briarcliff Summit subsidized apartment building at Ponce de Leon and North Highland avenues. This is a nine-story building, and I would take the elevator to the top and time myself to see how quickly I could get to the bottom and out the door.
I would call out "Meals on Wheels," and if there wasn’t a response, I would hurriedly leave the dinner at the door and move on to the next apartment. If someone did come to the door, I wouldn’t try to engage them in conversation other than a perfunctory "Have a good day."
This was not a satisfying experience at all, and I considered quitting, even though I knew the recipients needed the nourishment. But then I had a thought. What if I slowed down and actually attempted to get to know these people. It might make the chore more interesting. What a difference!
Now I know the nine people I deliver to by name, and I can tell they look forward to my coming, not for the food as much as the chance to engage in conversation. And I get a real sense of satisfaction, too, when I see their faces light up. Most of them clearly live a very lonely life.
There is one guy in particular named David, whom I had seen around Atlanta for probably 30 years. Usually I would find him in a coffee shop intently reading a book and not looking up or acknowledging others. Once, I attempted to make conversation with David but was rebuffed. Then it just so happened he was one of the first people on my route. When he opened the door, he was an entirely different person welcoming me into his apartment and thanking me profusely for the dinner.
Now when we see each other, we are the best of friends. And I have learned he is an expert on Arturo Toscanini with a collection of recordings that line his apartment. He has even visited Toscanini’s daughter in Milan in the maestro’s former home.
Something else I learned is that these are not so much poor people but disabled individuals or people at an age when they cannot provide meals for themselves, or they eat junk food instead of a balanced diet. Some of them actually pay for their once-a-day meals, and in other instances someone pays for them. I have delivered meals to some of the most exclusive streets in Atlanta.
One of the things I assumed when I started with Meals on Wheels was that the organization’s greatest need was money to run the program. While there is a need for funding, the greatest need seems to be volunteers to make deliveries. The First Presbyterian program delivers about 80 meals a day, but they tell me they could do more with additional help.
Nationally, about 1 million meals are delivered each day, with 2 million additional meals needed now. Four out of 10 programs have a waiting list, and by 2050 there will be 80 million elderly people in America – double what it is today – with the first of the Baby Boomers starting to turn 65 in 2011.
So if you want to nourish your soul and others, help yourself to a Meals on Wheels program. There are many in Atlanta, and they are as close as the telephone directory or a Google search on your computer.
