The Road to Heaven

Here at the St. Francis Inn, we are blessed to have three wonderful Friars who are excellent homilists. This morning, Fr. Bill spoke on the difference between words and actions. He recalled a beautiful homily he gave years ago on being calm and accepting God's will. He ended the mass feeling "holy". Not ten minutes later, someone had come up to him and made a remark that caused him, in his own words, to "go ballistic". Fr. Bill's conclusion: "The road to Heaven is littered with failures, but fortunately, God understands human nature and forgives us."

This is so true in my life. Last Thursday, I was the Meal Coordinator. This means that I was in charge of the whole evening. The main tasks are: a) to coordinate with the cook to provide the "sides" for the meal (in this case I was responsible for 300 desserts, 325 dinner rolls, milk for our families); b) to make sure the dining room tables are set up with cups, utensils, and napkins; c) to ensure that the bread that we have had donated that day is bagged up and ready to be put out in the yard for our guests to take home with them; d) to make sure that all recycling materials (cardboard, aluminum, metal cans, and plastic) is bundled properly and put in our side yard; and most important, e) to prepare the evening work roster, placing our core team members and any other volunteers who are scheduled to be at the meal in appropriate jobs. These jobs include everything from monitoring the bathrooms, washing dishes, and handing out tickets to distributing food, manning the office, and waiting tables. It's a big job with many details, but as a former CEO, I like being in charge and look forward to being the "big kahuna".

I came "on duty" at 1:00, and the first thing I noticed was that the afternoon shift had only two people -- Fr. Michael and me. This is barely enough to get all the work done, and so as a good "type A" person I went into overdrive. I assigned Michael to prepare the desserts (his favorite job because he gets to sample all of the icings in the cakes!) while I went to work on putting aside the 325 rolls for the evening meal. Unfortunately, every time I got going, the phone or the doorbell rang. I forgot to mention that one of the coordinator's main jobs prior to the meal itself is dealing with the needs of anyone who calls or comes to the door. These needs range from checking to see if a person has mail and handing out food to providing info to refer someone to another agency or handing out a pair of gloves to someone who has none.

For the first hour or so, I just could not get anything accomplished: the phones and door were too busy. Fortunately, Thea, who had the afternoon off, came to my rescue. After eating her lunch, she came back at 2:00 and handled the phone and door. FINALLY, I said to myself, I can get prepared. Within an hour, the rolls for the evening meal were counted out into the bins; the rest of the bread was bagged and boxed for distribution in the yard; the milk and water were put out for distribution; and all the recycled materials were collected and put in their proper places. By 3:30, the duty roster was prepared, and by 4:00 the volunteers and team began to arrive. Sure enough, despite my preparations, there were problems. The college group that was supposed to bring five volunteers brought only four; and the high school group came with two instead of three, but "Mark the Magnificent" had already planned for this and quickly made adjustments. By 4:20 all the waitresses and waiters, bussers, and table set up people were trained (also my responsibility) and ready to go. By 4:25 we prayed, and the meal began right on schedule at 4:30. Things are going GREAT, I thought.

I forgot to mention that, during the meal itself, one of the Coordinator's big jobs is to handle requests from our guests after they finish eating. They usually ask for various toiletries (shampoo, razor, deodorant, feminine products, pampers, baby wipes, etc.), a bag of takeout food for a spouse or family member too sick to come to the meal, an article of clothing (hat, gloves, scarf, jacket), or some other need. So, while we are in the midst of serving 300+ people and the Coordinator is checking to make sure that everything from food preparation to dishwashing is on track, the Coordinator is also dealing with the specific needs of various people lined up. It is BUSY. As the meal progressed, I was loving it, but I was also stretched near my limit.

Then, it happened. Judy (who is one of the core teams members and Thea and my supervisor here at St. Francis Inn) came into the kitchen accompanied by an older gentleman. Together they carried about six large platters of food -- some shrimp casserole, sliced pork, ravioli, etc. Judy informed me that this man was donating leftover food from a party to us. Great news, except for the fact that the man wanted his containers back, which meant that I had to stop what I was doing and try to find other food containers. In the midst of my frenetic situation, this request seemed excessive. I told Judy that I very busy with other duties, whereupon she told me that not only did I have to comply, but I needed to do it NOW. As I frantically tried to find something to put the food into, she told me that we also needed to WASH and DRY the man dishes so that he could have his stuff back clean. Well, I lost it: as I transferred the food, I announced in an angry voice that this whole request was unreasonable and that I was too busy, etc. etc. Judy responded with a curt: "This is a donor and you need to do this!" Furious, I handed the now empty platters to our dishwasher and with a high pitched, angry voice told him to wash them -- RIGHT NOW.

Within a minute, the "dust had settled". The food was transferred; the dishes were washed; and the man was ready to go. I realized that I had insulted him, and I apologized. I also went into the office and apologized to Judy. I plunged back into the Coordinator's role, but by now the meal was winding down and there was less to do. I had time to review my actions: why had I not simply delegated this task to someone else instead of trying to do it myself? Why did I not simply take a deep breath and realize that everyone, including the man, could wait a minute while I got organized? In retrospect, I could think of any number of ways I could have handled the situation differently, and much better. I felt crushed: what had begun as such a successful meal had ended with me feeling depressed and humiliated.

Later that evening, Thea and I discussed the incident. She reminded me that before we came here we had said that one of our main goals during this year of service at St. Francis Inn is to become more humble. She pointed out that it is in just these kinds of situations that we DO learn our limitations and confront our weaknesses. She observed that, during the meal I had, perhaps, dealt directly with 75 people (team members, volunteers, and guests). With tenderness, she said to me: "You made 73 of them happy. That's not a bad performance!"

True, but there was certainly room for improvement in dealing with those other two. And how many other times, I thought to myself, have I stumbled and screwed up when I was trying to do something good? I can think of a number of times. Fortunately, God understands and forgives. As Fr. Bill said this morning, "The road to heaven is littered with mistakes."

That is, truly, a very comforting thought.