There are causes that I believe in, and I'll pull out my checkbook to support them when I can. But, writing a check is not as satisfying as digging in and using your hands to actually make a difference. And, thankfully, I had the chance to physically get my hands involved in a worthy cause. The opportunity came my way to do something to help the people of Ukraine.
The country has been in the news for weeks and months. Millions of people have been forced to flee their homes and nobody can place a number on how many people have been killed. Usually, I ask myself, what can I do? How can I make a difference? And, I'm not the only one who feels this way. Very fortunately, my pastor had the same questions going on in his mind, but he knew who to contact. Pastor Frank called up a friend, Lyle Mullins from Heaven Sent Ministries. He asked Mullins, "Are you doing anything for Ukraine? Can my church be of assistance?"
"Yes! Yes!"
Heaven Sent Ministries has worked in twenty countries around the world. They know what to do, how to do it, and they have local connections. They provided a well-oiled operation when they came to my church for a weekend. And when the call went out for volunteers, over 1000 people raised their hands. Yep, half of the church signed up for the chance to help the people of Ukraine.
There were four two-hour shifts on Friday as well as Saturday. Groups of 12 people were assigned to individual tables. Everyone had a job to do. There were scoops for soy powder, vitamins, dried vegetables and rice. The bags were weighed, sealed, labeled, counted and boxed. I worked both days, and before my first shift was over, I was very thankful that I never had to work on an assembly line as a permanent job.
There were a lot of old farts present who knew very well about Lucille Ball's experience on an assembly line in the television show I Love Lucy. She and her friend, Ethel, worked at a chocolate factory. When they fell behind, they ate chocolate and stuffed even more every place they could in their clothing. My job in the assembly line was weighing each bag of food to see that it ranged between 398 and 402 grams. It was rare if any bag arrived at my scale between those numbers. Bags piled up as two of us weighed the contents and then added or scooped out rice as needed. If it was chocolate bonbons, I might have kept up better than Lucy did. But, nobody was tempted to eat uncooked rice with dried vegetables.
Each bag held enough food to feed five people. Every box held 36 packages of the rice and dried vegetables. Over the course of two days, the volunteers from my church packed up over 1000 boxes with enough food for 215,000 meals. The shipment would head out to Poland to help some of the three million refugees there and then go on into Ukraine as well.
It was a wonderful experience for all involved, but there were some special moments. On the very first shift on Friday, local television news crews showed up. And, at one point, someone tapped my pastor on the should to tell him something extraordinary. A volunteer for that shift was a woman from Ukraine who had only arrived in the US a few days previously. Valeria spoke through a translator to the reporter, “I am very happy to be with these wonderful people. Thank God that I am with you and can help Ukraine. I am grateful to all Americans for caring and helping my country. Many thanks from all Ukrainians. You are the best! We will definitely win!”
It was one of those moments when there were not so many dry eyes in the room.
On my Saturday shift, the packaging was well ahead of schedule, so my pastor called for a halt. He wanted to talk to the volunteers. There were two Ukrainians, who had come to the USA many years before, participating during the shift. He wanted to introduce them. After that, Pastor Frank moved from table to table to see if there were any other Ukrainian connections. As it turned out, there were five other people from Ukraine in our midst. Some may think that the pastor staged that event, but he's not a miracle worker.
The last table that the pastor came to was mine. I don't think we had a Ukrainian connection. If we did, I spoke up instead of them, but I had something to share. The reason I wanted to help was because I once lived in Liberia. My best friend, Daniel, was a refugee who had to flee to a neighboring country. I never thought I'd ever personally know someone who would be a refugee. But, I now realize that it can happen to anyone, anywhere. And, since I knew a refugee, I now know how personal the statistics are. Three million isn't just a number. It's three million individual people who have friends, brothers, children, parents, sisters, neighbors, stories and lives. Each one is special to the people who love them. None of them ever expected to be thrown into this situation.
I came to my church to help the people of Ukraine, but I did it because of my friend Daniel. He is now safe, back in the village where he was born. I hope the same for all of the people of Ukraine.
The country has been in the news for weeks and months. Millions of people have been forced to flee their homes and nobody can place a number on how many people have been killed. Usually, I ask myself, what can I do? How can I make a difference? And, I'm not the only one who feels this way. Very fortunately, my pastor had the same questions going on in his mind, but he knew who to contact. Pastor Frank called up a friend, Lyle Mullins from Heaven Sent Ministries. He asked Mullins, "Are you doing anything for Ukraine? Can my church be of assistance?"
"Yes! Yes!"
Heaven Sent Ministries has worked in twenty countries around the world. They know what to do, how to do it, and they have local connections. They provided a well-oiled operation when they came to my church for a weekend. And when the call went out for volunteers, over 1000 people raised their hands. Yep, half of the church signed up for the chance to help the people of Ukraine.
There were four two-hour shifts on Friday as well as Saturday. Groups of 12 people were assigned to individual tables. Everyone had a job to do. There were scoops for soy powder, vitamins, dried vegetables and rice. The bags were weighed, sealed, labeled, counted and boxed. I worked both days, and before my first shift was over, I was very thankful that I never had to work on an assembly line as a permanent job.
There were a lot of old farts present who knew very well about Lucille Ball's experience on an assembly line in the television show I Love Lucy. She and her friend, Ethel, worked at a chocolate factory. When they fell behind, they ate chocolate and stuffed even more every place they could in their clothing. My job in the assembly line was weighing each bag of food to see that it ranged between 398 and 402 grams. It was rare if any bag arrived at my scale between those numbers. Bags piled up as two of us weighed the contents and then added or scooped out rice as needed. If it was chocolate bonbons, I might have kept up better than Lucy did. But, nobody was tempted to eat uncooked rice with dried vegetables.
Each bag held enough food to feed five people. Every box held 36 packages of the rice and dried vegetables. Over the course of two days, the volunteers from my church packed up over 1000 boxes with enough food for 215,000 meals. The shipment would head out to Poland to help some of the three million refugees there and then go on into Ukraine as well.
It was a wonderful experience for all involved, but there were some special moments. On the very first shift on Friday, local television news crews showed up. And, at one point, someone tapped my pastor on the should to tell him something extraordinary. A volunteer for that shift was a woman from Ukraine who had only arrived in the US a few days previously. Valeria spoke through a translator to the reporter, “I am very happy to be with these wonderful people. Thank God that I am with you and can help Ukraine. I am grateful to all Americans for caring and helping my country. Many thanks from all Ukrainians. You are the best! We will definitely win!”
It was one of those moments when there were not so many dry eyes in the room.
On my Saturday shift, the packaging was well ahead of schedule, so my pastor called for a halt. He wanted to talk to the volunteers. There were two Ukrainians, who had come to the USA many years before, participating during the shift. He wanted to introduce them. After that, Pastor Frank moved from table to table to see if there were any other Ukrainian connections. As it turned out, there were five other people from Ukraine in our midst. Some may think that the pastor staged that event, but he's not a miracle worker.
The last table that the pastor came to was mine. I don't think we had a Ukrainian connection. If we did, I spoke up instead of them, but I had something to share. The reason I wanted to help was because I once lived in Liberia. My best friend, Daniel, was a refugee who had to flee to a neighboring country. I never thought I'd ever personally know someone who would be a refugee. But, I now realize that it can happen to anyone, anywhere. And, since I knew a refugee, I now know how personal the statistics are. Three million isn't just a number. It's three million individual people who have friends, brothers, children, parents, sisters, neighbors, stories and lives. Each one is special to the people who love them. None of them ever expected to be thrown into this situation.
I came to my church to help the people of Ukraine, but I did it because of my friend Daniel. He is now safe, back in the village where he was born. I hope the same for all of the people of Ukraine.
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