* * I've changed the names of various people / places * *
Those that know me know the details
Some of you may or may not know, but I volunteer every Friday at a local charity that helps those that are down on their luck and (let's be honest) some that have managed to make several poor choices that has led them to our place. Every service offered (medical, dental, clothing, furniture, etc) is free of charge. Another side of this charity is to schedule donation pick ups. Those that are cleaning out closets, moving, upgrading, etc. that choose to donate their items, call in and this organization picks it up.
Protocol is to have folks come in for a face-to-face, because the heart of this organization is to share the gospel. My role is to simply answer the phone and give people the information they need or get the information WE need to help them. More often than not, I'm scheduling donations to be picked up.
I've been at this for almost 8 years and after 8 years one tends to get a little...well, shall we say, indifferent to those calling for assistance. I'm only given so much 'authority' to DO anything for these folks. That is the policy at this organization, because I do NOT know back stories. I'm only there a few hours a week. There have been times my heart breaks for a particular caller, I inform someone that is on staff, only to hear, 'Oh yes...they've called EVERYday this week...x, y, z.'
Are you tracking with me so far?
Stay with me.
About one month ago, I was having a great day. I was pulling off a fairly cute outfit, it was a good hair day, I'd stopped for coffee, hugged the barista into a better day and even bought breakfast for the 'regular' homeless guy that I see each week.
It.
Was.
An.
AWESOME morning!!!
I was in tune with God.
The birds were singing.
I mean, prett-ee sweet start to the day.
I get the first call.
"Hello, my name is Virginia Smith. I called yesterday to get some assistance. I need food and some medicine. I'm pretty sure I spoke to you and you had said to call back after 3p and I just...time got away from me and I didn't get around to it. Anyway..."
I did not inform her at that moment that there was no way she spoke to me, as I'm only there on Friday's. She continues on - and this happens lot. People call and launch into their stories, leaving no space / breath / room to respond.
"Anyway...I have a disabled husband. Four foster kids and I was just wondering if someone could bring us some food."
"Ma'am, we normally require people to come in, onsite." I say
"I understand, but as I explained yesterday, and I'm sure you were the one I spoke to, that I can't. I have no way of coming in."
I hear this often. This charity does provide take food to shut-ins, but it is rare. It is case-by-case and it's done if the manpower is available.
"Ok (as chipper as I can muster). Well, I wasn't here yesterday, so it wasn't me that took your call. What I can do is get your information and I'll pass it along to the one that can make those arrangements." <you must understand, I wasn't at all snarky or rude, as it may seem by reading this. I was simply...let's say, as earlier, indifferent. Bored, even.>
"You're right. It wasn't you. The voice yesterday was much friendlier."
Ouch.
Silence.
She continues to lay into me and give me an earful. From I-don't-know-what it's-like-to-call-for-help, to fostering kids, to not knowing what it's like to have an elderly husband that is disabled and everything in between. I'm sure she threw in there 'you think you're so entitled' and 'get off your high horse' was thrown in there too.
So much for the birds singing and good hair day...sigh
One conversation in my head was saying,
"Who do you think you are lady? You've no idea who I am. I've a HEART for those in need. Just this morning I bought breakfast for our local homeless dude. How do YOU know that I don't know what it's like to ask for help?! How DARE you!! You DO realize I have your address and phone number! And do you know I have some GREAT hair going on today?! Some. Nerve. Lady."
The other conversation in my head went something like this,
'She's right. I've absolutely no idea what it's like to be in her position. I've never fostered. I'm not married to a handicap man nor an elderly one <well...haha, just kidding>. It has to be super humbling, even embarrassing to call and ask for assistance. AND this is NOT about me. While I may be a catalyst with my 'tone,' bottom line is that she doesn't know anything about me and she's in a tough place.'
I knew this second conversation was more accurate.
I also knew that anything short of an apology would do nothing but make the situation worse. So I said,
"Ma'am, I apologize that my voice isn't 'friendlier' <I mmmaaayyy have emphasized 'friendlier'>. I have adopted a 'to the point / dry' demeanor because the sooner I get your information, the sooner you get the help you need."
Round Two.
Definitely not about me, she's having a very. bad. day.
We wrap it up, she hangs up on me (of course) and I weep.
Sob.
This hit me hard.
I knew knew knew it was her circumstances. I knew to my core that I absolutely care about those less fortunate.
Yet, I cried.
Maybe she was right. Maybe I had become callous and too serious with people.
I really did contemplate what she'd said. While HOW she said it was awful and mean, the things she said about my voice* - did they resonate? COULD I sound friendlier to these people brave enough to pick up a phone and say, "I need help." ?
* * * * Fast forward to Good Friday * * * *
I'm back at this charity. I'm mindlessly sipping coffee, writing something down and the phone rings.
"Charity-that-helps-people. How may I help you?"
"Hello, my name is Virginia Smith...
Sound of a record screeching to a stop.
Gut wrench and my tummy drops to my toes.
Is. It. Possible???
She continues, and minus the 'I spoke to you yesterday', she retells the same story, adding that around the 20th, things get really tight, she now has five foster kids, etc.
I get her information and then ask, "Are you feeling better?"
"Uhm...yes, I...uhm...the impacted tooth still hurts, but that's at the bottom of my priority."
"Well, a few weeks ago, you called in and proceeded to give me an earful about my tone / demeanor on the phone. I want you to know that it made a big impact on me. Since then I have been intentional and keenly aware of how I sound. While I didn't like the delivery, I did have to consider what you said. I want to apologize AND thank you."
I only got about half of this out and she started to gush. Apologizing herself, sorry if she'd hurt my feelings, she had been having a really bad day. She thanked me for the fortitude and maturity in even admitting A) that it was me and B) indeed! I did sound friendly!!
Towards the end, and both of us almost crying, I said,
"Virginia, I do not find it coincidental that it is Good Friday. This is absolutely a God moment. I'm so so glad you called and please know that you've come to mind several times. Each time I pray(ed). I'm so glad that you called today. You're very brave to ask for help - that takes courage."
We said our good-byes, hung up.
And I wept again.
The peace, gratefulness and humility that washed over me was indescribable. I was SO SO grateful that I'd been given that opportunity to learn and to thank my teacher appointed at that time, a few weeks prior. I get misty-eyed thinking about it.
Maybe that is my point here. Every person, every situation, is an opportunity to learn. Regardless of the 'delivery'. I've said for a very long time, God always has my best interest at heart and sometimes He uses the Virginia Smith's to deliver.
Humbled, buoyed and blessed,
MamaFox
*I dismissed the other things she said, because I know better in my heart-of-hearts. I focused strictly on what she said about my voice, because truth be told, that is all she really 'knew' about me at that time.
