Hunger Is Not a Disease

New Beginnings – Part 2 as I Explore the Spirituality of Hunger in America

 

 

 

 

Like many first-time pantry volunteers everywhere, I showed up that morning because someone from the church asked me to come.  A slot needed to be filled and I stepped up to the plate when I was asked.  I was a foot soldier in the army of the outreach.  I tried to live up to my status in the church as a new member.  I showed up at whatever activity needed help and did my share.  Nothing more.

I had no desire to move up any ladder in the congregation.

On that morning of new beginnings, I had no premonition I would ever return to this pantry room.

I had no plans for this place in my future.  I had a profession teaching reflexology, Reiki, and canine massage therapy in a healing space in my home on Tannery Brook.

This was a case of fools rushing.  Knowing what I know now, I should have run out the door and never looked back.  Mary could have handled the crowd that day without me.  In the whole two hours, no more than a couple dozen people visited the pantry.

I wasn’t blessed with any psychic knowledge…certainly not the feeling of danger I felt when I saw the head of the building committee in the hallway outside the pantry months later.

There were no lines in the hallway at the new beginnings of my time there.  People wandered into the pantry in groups of one and two to choose from cereal, soup, tuna, and peanut butter.

Never in my wildest thoughts on that day did I envision the pantry hallway filled with hungry people, the tiny room packed with fresh produce and jammed with shoppers.

By 2008, the tanked economy was well underway and waits in the hallway were an hour or more.

The Hunger Prevention Nutrition Assistance Program (HPNAP) passed down feeding guidelines which included whole-grain bread, 1% milk, fresh produce.  By 2011, the building committee had rules dictating where people could stand, what bathroom they could use, and what parts of the hallway were off-bounds.

Never did I foresee monthly food deliveries averaging over 12,000 pounds.

Never did I imagine, on that day, building committee members angry over hungry people receiving food according to guidelines set down by the State of New York, the Department of Health, and the United States Department of Agriculture.

I never thought I would spend months grappling with the unworthy hungry, a concept introduced to me by a local religious leader.  The concept wasn’t explained.  Only the two words – unworthy hungry – were used in a sentence:  “You are feeding the unworthy hungry.”  This was something I never heard of before.  What did she mean?  Who were the unworthy hungry?

After that first morning in the food pantry, I drove home, pulled out a little notebook from a drawer and wrote what people said, like real writers do.  When I wrote these things down, I felt my grandmother’s presence.

Her spirit was with me in the room.  I looked around the dining area to see if someone had entered the room without my realizing it.  But, no, I didn’t find a soul.  I walked over to a cabinet and began my dialogue journal on that afternoon.

A shopper:  “They cut my food stamps again.  I don’t know how I’m going to make it.  I have no money this month.  My car died and I don’t know where I’m going to get money to fix it.  If I can’t fix it, I can’t buy a new one either.”

Lillie Dale Cox Thurman spoke to me clearly that morning with emphatic, strong, direct instructions.  She went straight to my head:  “Write this down!  Write this down too!  Now…write this down.”

My grandmother, Lillie Dale Cox Thurman, stepped into my life on the first morning in the food pantry and never left.  Not even when my mother, Uralee Thurman Lawrence, roared in with prayers and fast, furious, aggressive instructions which I resisted to the bitter end.  Under their directions, I joined the crowd in the basement and was soon volunteering regularly.

So, now, I’ve got the second volume, “The Ketchup Sandwich Chronicles,”  coming out on this blog.

 

Thank you for reading this blogged book!  Please refer it to your preferred social media network and stay tuned for future chapters!

Thurman Greco

Exploring the Spirituality of Hunger in America – New Beginnings Part 1

Part 1

I began this memoir before I even knew it.  On the first day I worked in the basement food pantry, I sat with Mary, a member of St. Gregory’s Episcopal Church and the head of the alter society.  We greeted a couple dozen hungry people.  Mostly single homeless men, there were a few of Woodstock’s famous colorful characters included in the mix that day.

Throughout my career in the pantry, the most colorful of the colorful was Grandpa Woodstock who liked to bring his bride, Lady Estar into the pantry to shop.  The two of them went around the room choosing from peanut butter, cereal, tuna fish, and soup.  While this happened, he entertained us gushing enthusiastically.

“My, how beautiful you look today!”  I fell for his spiel every pantry day.  Those words melted my heart.  The most professional of the street actors, he knew how to make us each feel special when he flashed his peace sign and posed for photographs.  Grandpa knew how to flash that peace sign, whip out his postcards to sell, and sound off his horn “toot toot”.  I sometimes thought he spent a few afternoons posing in front of a mirror to figure out how to get the best response from tourists.

Grandpa Woodstock and Lady Estar were most photogenic with their long, flowing silver hair.  Their lovely matching beards only emphasized floral print silk skirts and kimonos.  Their toenails were painted matching colors and their Teva sandals matched.

None of Woodstock’s rich and famous got so many requests for autographs and photographs.  They simply couldn’t compete with his show off tricks.

After all, Grandpa entertained us all with street theater at its finest.  So what if he didn’t mean a word of it?  We all enjoyed being sucked into the show!

Thank you for reading this article.  Please refer it to your preferred social media network.

Thurman Greco

It’s a Miracle!

This article was written back in 2013 when we got Miriam’s Well up and running.  I’m sharing this event with you.

Enjoy!

Lord,

When we drive Miriam’s Well up to the apartment complex, children gather round.  Their mothers shop for food.

Lord, I’m so grateful for this truck.  It took us exactly thirty-four minutes to design Miriam’s Well at the meeting in my healing space.  It took us exactly two weeks to get her together.  This truck is a miracle, Lord.  When You work a miracle, You arrange for things to work perfectly.  I love the perfection of this plan!

We put food in the back of Miriam’s Well, take it to Woodstock Commons, Woodstock Meadows, to the grounds at St. Gregory’s, and over to Tongore Pines, where the people come to shop.

There are no long lines, Lord.  There are no waits.  People just come to Miriam’s Well, get the groceries they need, visit with one another, and go home to wherever or whatever that is, with the food they need.

Dignity, smiles, positive thoughts, uplifting events.  The whole scene is reminiscent of a time at a village well in a Bible story.  That’s why we named her Miriam’s Well.

Only You could have done this Lord.  You guided our hands, hearts, minds through the entire project.

How can we ever thank You enough Lord?

Amen

Thanks for reading this article!

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P S – The manuscript has gone to the publisher.  I look forward to sharing this story with you in the coming weeks.  Thanks so much for your interest!

Thurman Greco

I Don’t Hang Out in Churches Anymore

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This  is  the story of hunger in America as only the hungry can tell it.

It began as an outreach activity at St. Gregory’s Episcopal Church in Woodstock, New York.  My job was to pass the pantry key from one congregation to the next each month.  Total monthly time commitment:  two hours.  By the time I moved on to another food pantry eight years later, it had become a calling.

From the very first day, I felt compelled to write down things  people said to me in the pantry.  Trouble is, I’m not a writer and never have been.

So, the prayers manifested themselves.  It was all I could do to just keep up with the words.

Obviously, I needed supervision, guidance, mentoring.  As I lived this story and began to write it under the direction of Lillie Dale Cox Thurman and Uralee Thurman Lawrence, the story and the people strengthened me.  I found that I wanted things for these people.  Mostly, what I wanted for these hungry people was the same thing they wanted.  What I wanted, (and what they wanted) really, wasn’t much:

I wanted the hungry to sleep with full stomachs at night.

I wanted them to wake up in a dry space in the morning.

I wanted them to have healthcare.

And I wanted them to have jobs which paid the rent, bought food, and covered their transportation needs.

I wanted them to be a part of the community where they lived.

Finally, I wanted their children to be well educated.

My hope is that you will see this book as a glimpse of what I see…a collection of prayers offered as prize crystals or gems to be shared with the universe.

This book is being edited now.  I hope to have it finished by the end of the year!

Please send kind thoughts and support on this project!

Cover art by Michele Garner.  Thank you Michele.  This cover is perfect!

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Thanks,

Thurman Greco

Woodstock, NY

“A Healer’s Handbook” by Thurman Greco is now available on Amazon or at http://www.thurmangreco.com

Ho Hum – Just Another Miracle

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No question about it, miracles do happen.  Maybe you don’t believe in miracles.  I do.  I was in denial for the longest time.  But, after awhile, I had to face reality.  There were simply too many coincidences:

One September pantry day a few years ago the lines were longer than usual and the shelves were emptying out fast.  “I think we’re going to run out of food” I mentioned under my breath to Marie Duane, a volunteer from St. Gregory’s Episcopal Church.

“Do we have a plan for this kind of event?” I asked myself.

Then, to quote the Reverend Mike Huckabee, “God showed up.”

I know this statement is  applicable here because  the moment I began muttering under my breath, it was  as if someone had blown a whistle.  A red haired woman drove up in a tan SUV filled with bags and bags of food she collected from Congregation Agudas Achim in Kingston.  Harriet Kazansky unloaded enough canned and boxed food to get us through the day with some food left over!

One December, the Wednesday after Christmas, to be exact, John Mower drove up with a car trunk filled with canned vegetables for the pantry.  What a gift!  Our pantry was completely bare that December.  Then, the next day, along came another trunk load.  He finally quit after three trips to the pantry.  He filled the shelves for the next pantry day.

One Tuesday morning in the pantry, Peggy Johnson was upset because she didn’t have enough food to prepare the take out bags for the fourteen families she delivered food to every week.  Food had been scarce and this week the take out area seemed  empty.  A large man suddenly walked in the door carrying an extremely large box filled with canned and boxed food.  A Kingston fireman who grew up in the Woodstock area, he made Peggy promise to never reveal his name.  However, she didn’t have to keep his gift a secret:  in one trip down the pantry hallway, carrying a box large enough to hold everything needed, he single handedly provided all the food for the home bound families that week.  Our pantry has never heard from him since.

In the pantry hallway, we had an Item of Dignity closet.  where shoppers could take a roll of toilet paper and one other item each time they shopped.  We were forbidden by the building committee to have clothing in this closet.

One Wednesday afternoon I noticed a pair of new boots.  I have no idea where they came from.  They certainly didn’t come in disguised as deodorant or shampoo.  Anyway, Prasida needed a pair of winter boots.  One of the volunteers took them off the shelf.

“Prasida, can you wear wear these boots?”  Prasida came over to the closet, looked them over, and put them on.

“Ahhh – a perfect fit!  Thank you Amma!  Now I won’t have cold feet this winter in my summer sandals.”

At one point, I was reading Doreen Virtue’s book “Archangels and Ascended Masters”.  One night I read about Saint Therese, also known as the Little Flower.  The story goes that if one prays to St. Therese, she will send a rose as a sign that the request has been heard.  The next day, I found a rose on the pantry floor as I walked into the room.

But, the real miracle happened repeatedly in the pantry as the shoppers and volunteers both began to heal and change and grow from the community, their commitment, and the experiences in the pantry.  When people first started coming to the pantry, either to volunteer or shop, they were focused inward on their own problems, issues, health.  After a short time, they began to focus on their friends in the pantry.  They became concerned about something bigger than themselves and their private struggles.

In short…they became new.

Thanks for reading this blog/book.  The stories are true.  The people are real.

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The book is still in progress!  It’s going to happen!

 

My Story and the 9 Truths I Discovered

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I began my life changing journey fighting  hunger on a cool autumn Thursday in Woodstock, New York in 2005 where I volunteered for the first time at the local food pantry.

I was assigned a shift with Marie Duane.  I drove over to the Woodstock Reformed Church, parked my car  behind the buildling and cautiously walked in.  I had never been to the pantry before.

I entered the empty hallway and found the pantry on the right.   I walked into the room  and there it was:  a small space, actually, about 12′ by 16′.  Each wall supported a set of metal shelving units.  Each unit stood about 6′ high and 3′ deep with 4 shelves.  Most of the shelves were empty.  A few shelves had some food:

cereal

tuna

soup

peanut butter.

There was a little handwritten note in front of each display:

 person:  1 item, family:  1 item.

There may have been other items on shelves but I don’t remember them.

A small table stood in the center of the room.  A metal folding chair was placed in front of each window.

We sat in the chairs, Marie and I, and chatted  as people trickled in.  We discussed the usual:  weather, gardening, knitting, decorating the alter at St. Gregory’s Episcopal Church.

“Hi.  How are you?  Will you please sign your name here?”  Each shopper signed in and noted the number of adults, seniors, and children in the household.  After signing in, the person walked around the room selecting from the cereal, peanut butter, tuna, and soup.  The selected food was placed on the table and bagged to take home, wherever or whatever that was.

On this morning, not blessed with any psychic knowledge,  I was totally unaware of experiences waiting for me in the pantry.  Never in my wildest thoughts did I envision the hall filled with hungry people, the tiny room packed with fresh produce and jammed with shoppers.

Nor did I for 1 moment ponder the push back I would  experience as the number of hungry seeking food grew.  Within a few short years, this 2 dozen single homeless men – mostly Woodstock’s colorful characters – had swelled (due to a tanking economy) to over 300 people weekly.  This number finally approached 500 people weekly before it was all over.

Now, in the autumn of 2015,  our stock market  experiences numerous “corrections”.  I realize I learned some things over the years  which, for me, are ground truths about the pantry.

Feeding the hungry with dignity is the most important thing.

Single homeless men are now far outnumbered by members of  the Struggling Class, households of working people holding down 2 and 3 jobs just to pay the rent and buy the gas to get to work.

The 3 most hot button words in the English language are food, sex, and money. These 3 words are concerned with a person’s core beliefs, emotions, and spiritual attitudes.  Food and money, or the lack thereof, loom large in pantries.

The sidewalks in our communities and cities have become wards of untreated mentally ill people.  In our great nation we don’t hospitalize or otherwise treat many of our mentally ill.  Instead, they  they are incarcerated.

Some of these untreated mentally ill happen to be homeless.  Homeless is not a category of people.  It’s just a situation that happens.  It can happen to anyone.

The 50+ senior population has many who lack enough $$$ for food and are largely a silent group.  The bottom line is this:  When our grandparents don’t get enough to eat, they often get sick.

I’m seeing a whole generation of children who have never been inside a grocery store.

Shoppers at our pantry can get a 3-day supply of food weekly.  Their job is to make it last 7 days.  Many share this food with a pet.  Often, the only thing a person has left from a prosperous past is the dog.

The most difficult thing I see in the pantry is a Korean War vet getting food.  Something I just can’t understand is how a person who  served in a very brutal war, and subsequently spent an adult life working and paying taxes should have to be in a food pantry line in his old age.

Much of the food available to the hungry in food pantries is diverted from its trip to the landfill.

There is absolutely no excuse for anyone in our great nation to go hungry.

Thank you for reading this blog.  The story is true.  The people are real.

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Thurman Greco

7 Ways We Use Food Pantries

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Food Pantries feed the hungry…and very successfully at that, actually.  After all, there are very few stories right now about starving people dying in the streets. We Food Pantry volunteers can  pat ourselves on the back for that, at least.

But, so much more happens in a Food Pantry beyond feeding the hungry.

For starters, thousands of volunteers are kept gainfully occupied and off the streets as we (wo)man the pantries.

The United States Department of Agriculture disposes of thousands and thousands of pounds of surplus foods every year in Food Pantries.  Unfortunately, though, the USDA seems to have a somewhat embarrassed attitude about the distribution of agricultural surpluses.  Anybody who thinks about it quickly realizes that it’s impossible to grow just exactly what we need every year.  It’s much better to have too much than too little.  So, the USDA needs the Food Pantries to dispose of this surplus.  Sure beats hauling it off to the landfill.

Thank you USDA!  I just wish you felt better about the job you do.

Supermarkets use Food Pantries to dispose of food they can’t sell.  By donating produce,
baked goods,
meats,
packaged shelf staples,  
grocers  avoid dump fees, discourage dumpster divers, accrue tax savings, and tell the world about how many thousands of dollars they donated to feed the hungry.

Churches throughout this country feed the hungry in Food Pantries located in their basements. That is, all except for the famous St. Gregory’s Episcopal Church in San Francisco where Sara Miles put the pantry on the altar. She subsequently wrote a book about it entitled “Take This Bread”. I hope you get a chance to read it.
Congregations label their Food Pantries as outreach but I don’t buy into that concept. What we’re all doing, really, is celebrating the enormous abundance existing in this country…in this world…on this planet.

Environmentalists use Food Pantries to divert food bound for the landfill.  It’s amazing when you think about it.  Several million people in our country are prevented from starving to death when they shop at a Food Pantry and take home produce, dairy products, meats, baked goods, shelf staples that would otherwise have ended up at the landfill.

Schools throughout our fair nation distribute food to children to take home on the weekend. The Backpack Programs offer food to children who have none in their households.

It’s a real ego trip for whole segments of our society.  Everyone feels all warm and fuzzy about food donated to Food Banks.  This includes  farmers, grocers, food manufacturers, restaurants, bakers, religious and civic institutions feeding the hungry, and, of course, the people who read the stories about the generosity of these businesses.

This warm and fuzzy feeling we all get when we realize which businesses are contributing to feeding the hungry rubs off positively on Food Banks.  They, thankfully, are very influential charities as a result.  Food Banks rank right up there with hospitals, the United Way, and the Y.

And, it’s all good.  Food Banks need the $$$ to keep the whole industry going.  The demand for the food keeps growing and growing because the  minimum wage jobs don’t pay enough $$$ to allow workers to buy groceries.  SNAP benefits get whittled away each year.  There’s not much left except the Food Pantry.

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http://teamnutrition.usda.gov
www.feedingamerica.org/officialsite
www.reservoirfoodpantry.org

Thurman Greco

Food Pantry Blog – The Fat Lady Sings

“The past, with its pleasures, its rewards, its foolishness, its punishments, is there for each of us forever, and it should be.” – Lillian Hellman

MIRIAM’S WELL, THE PANTRY TRUCK, BECAME A MIRACULOUS EVENT FOR ALL IN THE PANTRY.   The shopper census in the building dropped by one third because of the food being distributed in the yard at St. Gregory’s Episcopal Church, in the parking lot at Woodstock Commons, and outside the Community Center in Woodstock Meadows.

IN THE BIBLE, MIRIAM’S WELL SUSTAINED THE JEWS IN THE DESERT.   In the modern day Woodstock food pantry, Miriam’s Well, the pantry truck,  sustained both shoppers and volunteers as we fed the people.  The environment offered in the back of Miriam’s Well encouraged dignity and community.  Volunteers craved the dignity and community as much as the shoppers.

“Today was a day right out of a Bible story.  I’ve never experienced anything like this!  We were almost traveling back in time to the age old gathering at the well.”

“Today at Woodstock Commons was absolutely fabulous!  When that little boy ran around the community telling every one we were here, everyone was so happy.”

“Being at St. Gregory’s was so much fun!  That tree we park under seems magical.”

“The people at Woodstock Meadows are so happy to get the produce.  Many of these people really can’t make it to the pantry.”

MIRIAM’S WELL, THE PANTRY TRUCK,  WAS THE PRODUCT OF VOLUNTEERS WORKING TOGETHER TOWARD A COMMON GOAL.   The success was 100%.

WE HAD DONE MUCH FOR THE PEOPLE OF WOODSTOCK.  Pantry systems were in place so solidly that they were a “lock”.  The pantry was “running on autopilot” and going to function perfectly well without my services.

There were volunteers who wanted to move up in the pantry world.

There were volunteers who wanted to be the coordinator.

There were volunteers who wanted to take over pantry  management.

There were volunteers who wanted to make more decisions.

The Building Committee was certainly ready for new management.

I had a book that I’d been putting off for several years.  It was calling to be finished.  I’d dreamed about taking writing classes.

Peggy was the best take out manager on the planet.

Guy Oddo had been “living” the pantry for several years.

They would make a wonderful foundation team for the new pantry management.  They were well known, well liked, and respected by both shoppers and volunteers.  They were active in their local congregations so they would represent the Interfaith Council faction well.  They were both knowledgeable of Food Bank policies, guidelines, rules.  They both believed in following the rules and they were both honest.  They would be acceptable to the Food Bank.

The shopper population at the Woodstock Reformed Church was significantly reduced.  Pantry deniers were going to have a difficult time complaining about extreme overcrowding in the building with significantly fewer people in the halls.

EVEN WITH THE REDUCED NUMBER OF PEOPLE IN THE BUILDING, MORE AND MORE PEOPLE WERE BEING SERVED.

A NEW PANTRY OPENED IN BEARSVILLE WHICH WOULD FURTHER REDUCE PANTRY CROWDING IN THE BUILDING.   Fr. Nicholas was opening the pantry at the Holy Ascension Monastery 7 days a week.  He had a plan for controlling the lines:  call ahead to tell him you’re on the way.  His number:  845-679-0600.  Dignity, caring manners, a smile and the best food Fr. Nicholas could bring to the monastery pantry.

THAT WASN’T THE WHOLE STORY.  People from surrounding communities were asking about starting pantries in their communities.  Along Route 28 there are no pantries from Phoenicia to Margaretville.  People were asking.

One evening,  I was taking a rare moment to enjoy a perfect Woodstock evening.  The temperature was cool.  The sky was indescribably beautiful.  I couldn’t help but stop for just a minute to sit on a bench on the Village Green.

A nice young couple came up to me and talked about the need for a pantry in Boiceville.  Sean’s pitch was convincing.  I bit.

ON SEPTEMBER 6, 2013, THE FAT LADY SANG.

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Peace and food for all.

Thurman Greco