Act 35: Cook Dinner for Families at the Ronald McDonald House

I added this act to my list because I wanted a balance.  I had a bunch of frivolous and self-indulgent acts, but I wanted to do something that would be of service to others as well.  Turns out, if you are so inclined, there are many, many opportunities in the Triangle area to pitch in and volunteer.  In fact, there is an entire meetup group - Triangle Do-Gooders - devoted to just that.

I chose the Ronald McDonald house because it was close by, and I chose to cook dinner because that's something I know how to do.  I kind of thought this would be an easy item to check off the list, and one that I could pat myself on the back for being a good and helpful citizen.  I didn't expect it to take 4 months for me to be able to write about it.

First of all, the process for signing up for dinner was pretty painless.  I RSVPed for an event as soon as it was listed.  These things fill up quickly!   There is a group coordinator, Nancy, who does all the menu planning and shopping.  On this particular night, we were serving baked chicken, mashed potatoes, roasted carrots and apples, and salad.  Before we met in the kitchen at the RMH, Nancy had

already deboned about 18 pounds of chicken.  We had 10 pounds of potatoes, 6 pounds of carrots, and 4 bags of apples that needed to be peeled, prepped, and cooked.  The crew for dinner that night was 8 people, plus Nancy.  We all set about industriously peeling.

Every time one of us would finish a task, we'd go to Nancy.  "Now what can I do?"  She must have answered that question 59 times, but each time, she pleasantly assigned the next task and went right back to what she was doing.  Her strategy would rival an army general in its precision and efficiency.  Slice these lemons.  Prep that salad.  Melt the butter for this.  Whip up those potatoes.  It seemed like no time at all before we were putting out platters of food for the families.  Before they went on the buffet, Nancy gave them a final check - to make sure they were garnished and beautiful.

I thought my work was done, but then the families started to trickle down to the kitchen.  I don't know what I was expecting, but I was surprised to see their diversity.  It occurred to me that illness doesn't discriminate between rich and poor, brown or pale.  All the families I saw were in crisis.  And they each seemed so insular in their pain.

It was hard for me to consider, because I kept thinking about The Boy and The Girl.  I have two healthy and wonderful children. They've never had to fight for their lives.  I felt guilty for my good fortune and afraid to get too close - as if by doing so would cause something to rub off on us.  I know that's silly, and I know that's small, but that's what it was.

We were cleaning up when a woman in her early 40s came charging into the kitchen with her husband and two small girls in tow.  Nancy welcomed the family and directed them to the dinner that had been prepared, but this mom was on a mission.  She opened the grocery store bag she was carrying and pulled out a package.  While the girls and her husband stood back slightly, she searched until she found a pan and began to heat it on the stove.

"Are you sure you don't want some dinner?" Nancy inquired.

The mom looked at her, wild eyed and determined and replied, "No.  My son has not been able to eat for weeks.  Today he asked for a steak."  She jabbed toward the steak in the package on the counter.  "I haven't been able to do anything for him for weeks, but I. Am. Going. To. Make. Him. This. Steak."   She turned back to the stove.

I understood where that mother was coming from, though I could not comprehend the depths of her experience.  I could feel her despair and her ferocity.  Finally she had a task.  Something she could DO to help her child, and she was no about to let anything get between her and that task.   I also understood that if I didn't get out of there right then, I was going to embarrass myself in front of a bunch of people I didn't know.

I made it to the car before the tears started.

As I drove away, I thought about how smug I had been going into the experience - how I practically expected someone to congratulate me for being such a kind and selfless person.  I thought about how while we were preparing the meal, I was mentally cataloging the details that I would include when I wrote about my act of courage.  We prepared a beautiful meal for the families, and yes, it was done with some love.  But I really had no inkling.  Not a single clue.

All the way home, I thought about how blessed I am.  How charmed my life has been.  How charmed my life has been.  How lucky my children and I were.  I said a prayer for that mom, her son, her husband, and those two little girls.  I asked God's blessing on that meal she was preparing.  I am willing to bet that that steak was the best steak ever made.  It certainly was prepared with love.