I only learned a few years ago that my close friend from elementary school went through a time where the family could barely get by. His father was unable to work, so they were short on everything. People worked together to provide the necessities and never discussed it. When I asked my mother who was getting the clothes, since we had hand-me-downs all the time, she explained, "None of your business."
None of the classmates knew this until Lawrence decided to tell this a few years ago, to encourage people to do the same. He gave me permission to post the story, so some of you have heard it before.
He went to Yale College with a full scholarship and became a tennis coach, the best for colleges of that size in the country, according to Sports Illustrated. He is also a published poet.
Lawrence wanted to motivate people to do the same thing for their neighbors, and that had a big effect on Christina and me. We copied the Tim Ballard Garage Sale, named after another classmate, who does this. The principles are - no prices, no questions, give it away. That is how we redeemed our garage for parking the car and making others happy. I stopped liking a solid, low table in the garage the 20th time I barked my shins on it. "That is such a nice table!" Chris said in protest. "Ask my shins," I replied.
Besides that, when there was a need, we did whatever we could. Four little children were spared a miserable life by a relative's compassion, so we helped where we could and never missed what was given.
I asked a helper why he came over to shovel without a coat on. "I don't have one!" I gave him my parka and he burst into tears and hugged me.
We have neighborly things going on all the time. Things unused are given to people who have that need. I like direct help because I know about the shortages and how to address them. Many times it is a perfectly good item someone can use.
Here is Lawrence's story, verbatim -
"Thanksgiving--
My family lived in poverty for several years when I was growing up in Moline. With Dad unable to work, our Mom struggled to keep all four of us kids under one roof. Government surplus food--big cans of peanut butter, cornmeal for bread, margarine, chalky powdered milk--kept us going.
We loved our Mom then, and love her even more now, for sewing for people, baking pies, working part-time in a printer's shop to try to make ends meet. I'm grateful to my friends at John Deere Junior High for sliding me bread, butter and cheese when they realized I couldn't buy lunches; to my Moline High School tennis coach Joe Ruberg, who supplemented team meal allowances with his own money to make sure I got enough to eat; to our neighbor Mrs. Kasenberg, who gave us the biggest treat of all those years: two weeks of real milk. (God bless you, Mrs. Kasenberg. We know you wanted your gift to be anonymous, but the milk man accidentally blurted out your name.)
I'm grateful to the many high school classmates who knew, but were kind enough not to say, that gift clothes I wore after Christmases back then actually came from the yearly Share Joys campaign for needy families; I'm thankful for their good parents, who taught my friends not to humiliate someone who is living through hard times.
I'm also grateful for the Sunday school teachers, ministers and priests in Moline who did their best to help our family remember that while we may have been "the least of these" financially, we were still no less than children of God."
