A Place in the Line

There is a certain kind of work that doesn’t ask to be noticed.

No ribbon cutting. No podium. No name on a building. Just a weekday morning, a line of cars, and somebody trying to figure out how to make groceries last a little longer than they should. You show up, you do your part, and you go home. The work stands on its own, whether anyone says a word about it or not.

The work

I’ve been spending the past few months volunteering at a local food pantry. I’m still learning my way around, but I’ve found a place where I can be useful.

My role is simple enough to explain. I pull items off shelves based on family size and move them along to the folks who bag everything up. Most days, that means I’m just pushing a cart. I try to stay out of the way. Some days I even manage that.

It is not complicated work. It is not impressive work. But it is honest, and it is needed.

The whole thing runs on a quiet rhythm. Cars pull through. Names get checked. Groceries move from shelf to cart to bag to trunk. In the back, people are stocking, sorting, and keeping the flow going so the line out front never quite stalls. It is a loop, and every part of it matters, even the part where a man is mostly pushing a cart.

The physical side of it is manageable. You are not hauling anything heroic. A tray of canned goods is about as heavy as it gets, the kind of thing you would not think twice about at the grocery store. Comfortable shoes help. At this stage of life, comfortable everything helps. I say that as someone who has pulled a hamstring reaching for a TV remote.

The people

What stays with you more than the work itself is the people.

They come from all directions, carrying their own stories, their own reasons for being there. Most don’t appear to be looking for recognition. They show up, do the work, and keep things moving. I don’t know that for sure, since only one has shared their motivation with me. But the plain truth is that they are people who, like anyone else, could be off tending to their own pursuits, and no one would fault them for it, but for a time, they are here instead.

You settle in alongside them, and after a while, you simply find your place in the line.

The people holding these places together have been doing it for a long time. They are steady. They keep showing up. And they are not going to be here forever. That is not a complaint. It is just the truth of it.

Working at the place and learning from the old-timers can sometimes feel like herding cats, as you try to take in a lot at once from people who have been doing it their own way for years. It has also shown me something about myself — after years of being in charge, I’ve had to relearn how to work under others. It’s a bit of a stretch at times — the necessary kind that reminds me I’m not as flexible as I used to be.

The way it finds you

I got here when someone from church reached out after a need was expressed. Nothing dramatic. Just a call passed from one person to another, until it landed on me.

That seems to be how this kind of work comes together. Not always as a grand purpose. Sometimes it is just a call that comes through a conversation, or a phone ringing, and a decision to answer it.

So now I suppose I am passing that along.

Places like this do not run on good intentions alone. They run on people who show up. And right now, most of the ones showing up have been doing so for years. The line holds, but it could use some reinforcement.

If you have been thinking about volunteering somewhere, waiting for the right moment to step in, I would tell you plain: that moment rarely arrives on its own. More often, it comes as a nudge, or a thought you cannot quite shake, or maybe even a literal call.

You find a place. You make a call. You show up once and see how it fits you.

That is all there is to it.

For those here in Beauregard Parish, you can call God’s Food Box and ask for Keith or Alfred. They will point you in the right direction.

For everyone else, there is a place like this near you. It may not advertise itself much. It may not look like much from the outside. But it is there, doing the work all the same.

And it may be calling, in its own quiet way.

There is room for one more person.

Even if all you end up doing… is pushing a cart.

Photo Credit:

• Photo from God’s Food Box Facebook Page