Hope for Long Island’s Most Vulnerable

Safety.
Dignity.
Food.

Admittedly, I take them for granted.

I make dinner, not thinking twice about the copious amount of food stored on the shelves of my stainless steel fridge.  I move about my day lacking conscious consideration of the safety, warmth, and privacy my home offers.  Rarely do I reflect on the more subtle forms of communication I encounter throughout my day, from the eye contact of a stranger to the respect and generosity of a friend.

Meanwhile, in the dimly lit Campbell Park located ten miles outside of Queens, a slender man with a funny walk and long, gray hair, tilts his head back, towards the New York sky.  The extra thick clouds leave him wondering if rain - for the third night in a row - will flood the soil and leaves where he's been sleeping the last few months.  Trying not to worry about the cold, wet, and prolonged chill the rain will leave in his 68-year-old bones, he slowly lays down on the muddy ground.  It is 9pm and his stomach screams for food.  Ignoring the pain in his belly, he rolls up a faded, blue sweatshirt from a clothing bank, and places it under his head.  As night masterfully envelopes the final few minutes of the long day, large raindrops begin falling.   As each drop rolls down his cheek, he is reminded of life before his accident  - a life with a steady job, home, and loving family and friends.  Pushing back tears and pulling the collar of his coat as high as it will go, he shuts his eyes and forces the memories out of his mind.  He knows he can never go back to the way it was.  His mind turns to the only thing he looks forward to now and can always count on: lunch at The INN.  

* * *

It's 7:37am.

The latex gloves are on, onions and carrots are rhythmically chopped, and the oven is cranked high at what is Long Island's largest and Nassau County's oldest soup kitchen.  There is no such thing as a slow start to the day in this urban kitchen.

By 8:00am, a methodical buzz has taken over The INN's kitchen.

A handful of focused volunteers are graciously tending to every detail of the day's meal, feeding between 250 and 300 people.  After fifteen years of early workdays, managing hundreds of volunteers, and serving thousands of warm meals, Jean, The INN's Kitchen Manager, says, "It's not a job for me anymore...It's about giving your energy to the person who needs the help...we treat each other with dignity and respect; that is what we do here at The INN."

With the spirit of kindness woven into the fabric of the INN's culture, it is no surprise this sanctuary of hope for Long Island's most vulnerable, is the largest and oldest soup kitchen.

Safety, dignity, and food - things most of us take for granted - are all thought about and served here daily.

By 9:30am, guests - new & returning, young & old, ashamed & unashamed, black & white, educated & uneducated - begin entering the warm dining room.

Diligent volunteers - star examples of the Divine's grace in action - continue to prep, cut, sizzle, turn, bake, and slice.  As the guests enter, no volunteer or staff member can assume what a guest experienced throughout the night, or right before he or she walked in.  Since many of the guests are experiencing homelessness, the enclosed shelter, clean bathroom, chairs to sit in, tables to eat at, heat to warm numb limbs and extravagant generosity of the volunteers and staff, remind them of their humanity, and for some, to never give up.

By 11:00am, the fresh meal is ready to be served.

After three and a half hours of steady work in the kitchen, the main room is now a place of connection, renewal, and a warm meal.

As guests and volunteers interact, The INN's volunteers serve nourishment to both the body and soul of each guest. Volunteers on the front line come face to face with the harsh realities a person experiencing homelessness endures - from months to years of windburn, sun and dirt on their face - to the deep-seated loneliness in their eyes and heart.  As a society, our grace and capacity to serve this vulnerable population are expanding.  We are widening the circle of who we call "neighbor" and beginning to better understand the causes and effects of homelessness within our cities and towns.  The INN, located in a critical area of New York's Long Island, is robustly sending a message of justice and blind love, thus doing their part in changing how people around the world view homelessness.

Dana, the INN's Marketing Director, says about her work at The INN, "I'm a busy mom and I decided several years ago that if I was going to continue working, then I'd better be leaving the house each morning for something that counts."  She found a job that counts, and she - along with many others - have no intention to leave anytime soon.  "I'm a newbie at 5 years; they come to The INN and never leave."

The INN, a mecca for those experiencing homelessness on Long Island, is managed with very intentional tender, loving care.  The Executive leadership, managers, and staff know what is needed to sustain healthy and committed volunteers and staff.  Taking time each week (or day) to reflect on experiences and feelings, the open lines of honesty and communication allow a volunteer or member of the staff to say, "I'm overwhelmed by what I saw today."

It is obvious to all who come, The INN's volunteers are more than quick hands cutting vegetables and arms extending plates of food.  They are loyal hearts, bound to serve even the most marginalized and forgotten neighbors.  Likewise, The INN's humble and devoted staff is more than Long Island residents collecting a paycheck or punching a time clock.  Willing to take lower pay to serve in the non-profit sector, these everyday heroes are compassionate out of a commitment to wholeness and abiding love of neighbor - every neighbor.

No matter who walks through The INN's doors - a scared, single mom or a former gray-haired businessman who now sleeps on the dirt and leaves of a city park - all are treated equally.  As each of us seeks to expand in our own capacity to love, may we be inspired by the unbiased hospitality of The INN.  There is, on Long Island's Madison Ave., a place where courage stands tall and justice-seekers are quietly raking away the stereotypes, judgment, and fear facing hundreds of vulnerable New Yorkers.  May the safety, dignity, food, and most importantly - love - that is served daily at the Mary Brennan INN, hold us accountable to what is served at our own table and in our own neighborhoods.

Peace,
Annette

Please note...
The man in this story is a fictional character based on real experiences of guests at The INN 

I loved learning about the Mary Brennan Inn...
Here is a short video if you would like to learn more too: