In The Bag

At Samaritan House we accept donations of all sorts. Clothing, food, vintage Jethro Tull 8-tracks… I’ve seen them all float our way and we are appreciative for the kindness so many people consistently demonstrate (Aqualung never gets old, by the way). Since we have children at the shelter, we often receive toys and other items intended to brighten the day of our youngest residents.

A few weeks ago, my daughter collected a bag full of toys she wanted to donate. They were in great condition and had many more miles left in them. I thanked her and told her I would drop them off at the shelter so other kids might enjoy them. She put them in a bag and placed them by the door, where they sat. And sat. And sat some more. I kept forgetting to grab them on my way out the door and since I leave for work before anyone else in my family is awake, I had no one to remind me. I really like passing the buck. Actually, once I did remember but my hands were full because I was juggling car keys a cup of coffee and some paperwork. Eh, I thought, I’ll just grab them tomorrow.

I didn’t.

Finally, after more than two weeks of this neglectful nonsense, my daughter’s exasperated rage boiled over and she took drastic measures. It was like every other morning and I had gone through the usual drill of waking up, getting dressed and was about to depart for the day when I noticed my daughter curled up in our recliner next to the door, fast asleep. I gently shook her and asked her why she was in the living room and not in her bed. She rubber her eyes and sleepily told me she didn’t want me to forget that bag of toys. I told her I would grab them and half-heartedly apologized and said I had simply forgotten. “I know daddy. You keep forgetting because it’s not as important to you as it is to the little girl who wants those toys.”

Ouch. She was absolutely, undeniably correct. I drove to work that morning (with a bag of toys on the seat next to me) rethinking many things. I claim to care about social issues and I work every day alongside some amazing people who have dedicated their lives to addressing homelessness in the Flathead Valley. But I was only seeing half the picture… just viewing the situation from one perspective that didn’t take into account what it might have felt like to be a little kid who has very little and is thrilled by a bag of donated toys. I had divided things into two categories: Important (food, clothing, medicine, shelter) and Not Important (toys for kids).

Please don’t misunderstand me. I know there is a difference and some donations have greater uses than others. The problem was not the utilitarian nature of the donation, it was that I had not bothered to care enough to be responsible for providing something for some kids simply because my hands were too full. I am now trying to relearn the idea of importance.