In addition to my annual library duties, I volunteered for the first time at Room in the Inn, a homeless shelter in Nashville. This was quite possibly the best decision I have ever made. The first day, I was surprisingly not nervous considering the situation- dropping off a 16-year-old girl at a homeless shelter where she knows virtually no one? That doesn’t even sound safe! But for some reason (and if you ask me, I’d tell you it was God at work here) I was not even nervous. When my mom pulled up to the curb, we said our good-byes, and I took the first steps into the world on the homeless.
I started out my mornings at Room in the Inn at 7:30 in Clancey’s Crossroads Café. During my first few hours, I put breakfast pastries on plates, made coffee, and set up tables. When the doors opened at 8:30, the show began. Pouring coffee non-stop is the only way I can describe what ensued. There was literally no time to sit and hardly time to socialize and chat with the guests, which was something I enjoyed doing immensely. They had the best stories that many people will never listen to because they won’t bother to just stop and talk with people they are afraid of. But during the weeks I was at Room in the Inn, I learned so much about people and how you can never judge a book by its over- a seemingly elementary concept that most people don’t follow. Serving those who very rarely get served was the most humbling experience of my life. I’ll never forget the times I spent laughing and joking with guests I later knew because they were “regular,” or the man who always liked 16 sugars in his coffee, or the bad comedian that came and told jokes on the small stage and threw Hershey’s bars when the guests answered questions correctly. I will always love the people I met while working in Clancey’s- Fred, Frank, Cecil, Rodney, Joel, and so many hundreds more who gave me names I couldn’t remember but the people I will never forget. (P.S.- If you’re one of the guys I met while at RITI, please don’t think I forgot you. Even if I can’t remember your name right this second while writing it, please believe me when I say I haven’t and will never forget you. I just have a bad name memory!)
After my breakfast shift, I would help the people at Luke 14:12 serve lunch. This was when I would work with Grayline- the man I grew to love and regard as a good friend. Together, we probably had too much fun setting the tables for fifty-two people with a napkin and fork, one small salad, one dessert, and a plate of food. I was in charge of drinks. I stood by my drink cart with my glasses in neat rows and prepared for the huge rush of people that was about to get what might be their only hot meal of the day. I filled cups with ice and poured the beverage of the day (which was hopefully sweet tea- the guests’ favorite.) When the residents of the Guest House came in, I got to take a short break before they finished eating. But when they were done, it was back to work faster than ever. For every person that left, it seemed ten took their place. It was so hard trying to keep up with the huge influx of guests coming in and making sure everyone had a cold drink. It was crazy and hectic feeding usually over 200 people, but that was just how I liked it. And sure, it wasn’t always as fun and happy as I make it sound- there was one time when a man, obviously under the influence of something and not mentally sound, went berserk. He was yelling uncontrollably, and the room was completely silent. He was lashing out and seemed to be a threat to other guests, so he was escorted out of the building, where he proceeded to run away and never return to the program. I probably should have been scared, but I know the men there would have protected me if it was necessary.
The hours spent at Room in the Inn were some of the best of my life. It showed me the real lives of these people who are so often generalized and stereotyped by onlookers who have no inkling of an idea the heart, soul, and faith that lie within those who don’ t know where their next meal is going to come from. The stories I would were unforgettable, like the ex-Grand Ole Opry singer or people who never imagined their life would turn out to be what it was, or the men who served their country but couldn’t even find a place to sleep, or the men who came in saying “you’re an angel, God bless you” when it seems to many that they had no reason to be thankful or happy. Perhaps the most eye-opening aspect of my time spent volunteering is when men and women would come in together looking- for lack of a better word- so normal to me. They were regular-looking people with new-looking clothes and shaved, clean faces. They were the people who have been hit the worst by the economy and just recently lost their jobs, along with everything they had.
I miss going to Room in the Inn more than I can express, but I am so thankful for the time I got to spend there. I hope reading this allowed you into a small glimpse at what I experienced this summer and will encourage you to reach out and find something that you love to do that benefits others and addresses a need in your community. To all my RITI people- I LOVE YOU! Each and every one, even if I didn’t name you in here (again…the name remembering thing really just doesn’t work with me unfortunatly.) I remember you and you will all be in my heart forever, and I hope to see you soon.
**ALL PICTURES IN SLIDESHOW COURTESY OF ROOM IN THE INN!!**
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