HOPPY, HOPPY EASTER

      It really IS all about me… Today was positively the best Sunday I've spent at the shelter. Of the two people around there these days who are less than delightful, only one was present, and he's a pre-release. "Helpful Guy" was nowhere to be found. Dean, Mr. A. and I WERE the kitchen staff, and we make such a fine team.

       I've been collecting stuffed bunnies for weeks, and Dean saved a banana box for me to put the bunnies in today, nestled in a soft yellow blanket. On the front of the box I placed a note: "Everybody needs somebunny." Early comers to the dining room perused the bunnies, drooling over them to no avail. I made them wait until lunchtime.

       Among our homeless is a very pretty middle-aged lady who always brings a bit of sunshine to lunch. Today, she came early to the dining room to spread her Easter things on a table and make up several little gift baggies for her special people. She gave one to me, and to Dean and to Mr. A.  In my plastic bag are 6 candies, a small dab of blue Easter grass, and a plastic egg with 2 candies in it. She used one strand of the grass to tie the bag shut. She was in her element, doing for others, but when she saw the bunny box she homed right in on the biggest, pinkest, fluffiest bunny in the gang. She lifted it out, pressed it to her heart, and wanted it. I had to be fair, "Wait until lunch; if it's still there, it was meant to be yours." She liked that idea.

      Sadly (Miss Joy was majorly pissed!), the other less-than-delightful person at the shelter is a very bad-ass pre-release. He's pretty too, and he struts his bad-ass self around with a mean attitude. His group eats first, and yes, that heathen snatched that big pink bunny, and my sweet lady saw him carry it to the parking lot and drive away with it. Well… the rest of today was not sullied by Bad-ass—but he certainly had given it his best shot.

       Next year, I'll start collecting earlier—a lot of folks didn't get as many bunnies as they thought they "needed" for their nieces, nephews, and friends, but in the end, there was one little critter left in the box, and Dean claimed it for his grandson.

       We served burritos, chicken nuggets, French fries, soup (Lillian made it; I saved it), little candy bars, and dyed eggs that I took from home. The soup had enough tomato acid to choke a horse, so I put about half of it thru a sieve and returned the vegetables to the pot. Then I added chicken, water, a can of refried beans, and macaroni. Saved.

       The new baby's mom brought him to lunch; the 2-month-old's mom brought him to lunch, and I got to drool my eyes out. Boy, are they precious—little pink feet curled under, all snuggled up on Mom's shoulders… well, sleeping babies are perfect.

       The 12-year-old took a bunny from the box, and later I asked her to find the wheelchair lady (who did not come to lunch) and give her a special candy that I know she likes. Interestingly, the child was delighted to have been asked to perform that favor for me. I heard her telling her mom, as if I'd given her a personal present. Makes you wonder: what are the details of that child's deprivation?

       Near the end of the second lunch period, a tall man came into the dining room and asked the group if he could speak. Everyone became quiet. Then the man explained that while we were all having a wonderful day with our candy and toys, we might be missing the reason for the celebration. He wanted to know if he could have a brief moment of prayer. All heads bowed, and at the end was a unanimous "amen!"

       Then, that sweet lady I like so much got up and hugged the man, and she started to cry. A short while later she brought her still-weeping self to the counter with her food wrapped in napkins and asked me to please save it in the warming oven. "Are you crying happy or sad?" I asked. She said some of both. Mr. A. said she recently lost her son… so I don't know where the "happy tears" could have come from! Bless her heart—and that @$^$#@ MAN took her bunny. You know? Next week I think I'll take that lady the most beautiful toy in my collection. Mr. Nasty, you haven't seen payback time until Miss Joy has dished it out for you!

       Dyed eggs: Everyone was asked, "Would you like an egg?" And then, "What color?" Most didn't care about the color, but those who did would tell you why, "I want blue; I'm a Carolina fan!" Actually, blue was the most favored color. Last year, I let them take the eggs themselves; this year, I doled them out.

       Nearly all the food was consumed, and only one critter and one egg remained after lunch. It doesn't get anymore perfect.
       Then Mr. A., Dean and I made several dozen PBJs sacks and several dozen meat-sandwich lunches. When my body said it was time to go home, I listened; but I didn't want to. I thanked the guys for giving me the most perfect Sunday at the shelter. They'll be there again next week, as Doug's vacation has one more Sunday. Hopefully, we can rock out again. It's all about me; yes, it is.

NO, WAIT:
       I'd finished this blog and was ready to start the rest of my day (whatever that was), but the issue with Bad-ass and the crying lady just wouldn't let go. So I loaded up my two best bunnies (saved for myself… see?). One is weighted and feels like a real 5-pound baby; the other is an expensive infant toy, soft as down, pink as a whisper, and it rattles when you shake it. I returned to the shelter and had Crying Lady called to the kitchen. I handed her the bunnies and told her, "Pardon my French, but the bad-ass who took your bunny didn't know what kind of old lady he was messin' with!"
       She squeezed those toys to her heart, she hugged me, she explained that her son had died only 6 years ago (God forbid I should ever fully understand her pain), and she left the kitchen gleefully. I told her that if Bad-ass looked confused, she could say simply, "Oh, you didn't see these? They were in the bottom of the box." Dean and Mr. A. got a huge kick out of it too. Maybe this old lady will have brought the bad one down a peg.
       The guys sent me home with two boxed dinners of ham, potato salad, beans, and cornbread. Win-win again—all about me :)