The undeserving poor.

Our church is associated with the overnight homeless shelter in our town. Giving financial support and, one month a year, taking the overflow from the shelter. Families who need a place to spend the night and can’t fit in the shelter spend the evening and sleep in a place we’ve set up in the youth room at church. We staff it with volunteers.

I did that one night this week. It’s really no sacrifice on my part. The way it tends to work out, I spend the evening playing with the littlest kids, trying to give tired moms and dads a little relief, reading stories and just doing whatever the kids want to do.

I don’t mention this because there’s anything heroic about what I add to the process. I mention it because it’s a humbling experience and a bit of reality I usually avoid.

I can’t imagine trying to keep your life together in that situation. There were a few teenagers this time. They headed off to a side room to work on homework — life goes on whether or not you have a place to live.

While I understand not everyone can be rescued from some of their own decisions, these folks seem more like victims of a lot of circumstances that severely limit their choices.

I was reading recently about a political struggle going on in California, I think it was, about whether or not to extend unemployment benefits again for people who simply aren’t finding jobs. Someone was arguing that further extending already extended benefits would take away the incentive to look for work.

I understand the crunch we’re in. But that sounded a bit like something I mention a few entries back, about watching out for people who say they’re doing something “for your own good.”

I have nothing profound to add here. It was a sobering night, one I'd rather avoid, but need to keep doing. "The undeserving poor," as they were described in Dickens' day, don't look as undeserving when they're four years old and sitting in your lap.