I recently toured the headquarters of Christian Community Action (CCA). It was yet another non-profit on my list to tour as I recently became editor of this magazine. I expected big things from this non-profit that I had heard so much praise about. But I didn’t expect a stack of Pokemon cards to stir me so deeply.
Sandra Said it Began with Fish
Sandra Sims, Corporate Relations Manager at CCA, welcomed me warmly to the administration office and our tour began promptly. Down to the Community Room she took me and told me a story that began with fish. Seven members of a bible study began CCA, mere strangers but with a common goal, to give those struggling “fish to eat”— but to also teach them how to fish. “Dignity,” Sandra explained. “It comes into everything we’ve done. When I'm thinking of our Angels,” she said, referring to all who entered CCA’s doors for help. “I am thinking that it has taken them a lot to walk through that door. And who are we to judge them? Because we're all just one accident away from the same situation. It could be medical, a job loss, a marriage. So why wouldn't we try to treat you with dignity? We're not giving them a handout, we're gonna give them a hand-up.” And the hand-up begins with the three Rs.
Sandra explained the three R’s of CCA as we strolled through the large Community Room. The room stretched wide and long, dividers stood half away drawn to separate the room into smaller ones. Several white boards, and countless tables and chairs sprinkled the different sections of the room. Vocabulary and alphabet signs in Spanish and English covered the walls. The first R, Rescue, includes all things needed immediately: rent, utility and food. The second R, Relief, is their back-to-school programs, feeding kids in the summer, and Christmas. Before school starts in the fall, the kids of CCA swarm Old Navy and pick out two new precious school outfits, a backpack, and school supplies. Last summer they gave over 62,000 meals to kids in need over summer break, hand-delivered to their home. And then, Christmas. The parents send in their childs’ wish lists and CCA does their best to provide exactly those things, including wrapping paper, handmade stockings, stocking stuffers, Bibles and devotionals. Sandra ran her fingers over one of the tables lining the wall. On Mondays, the seniors, or “Golden Angels”, shop at the food pantry, eat a hot meal, play Bingo, and attend classes with the rest of the adults. Classes cover everything from GED, ESL, computer knowledge, “how to create a business” and “job readiness”. They compose the final R, restoration.
The room was indeed large, but there were so many components. How was all of this going on in this one location with all the staff I had seen so far? I asked Sandra who was teaching these classes. The answer was volunteers, from retired teachers to Truist Bank. I was impressed with how much they did, CCA seemed to stretch so far and so wide.
Next was the counseling room, a tiny peaceful room. The boardroom came next, lined with posters showcasing shy smiles and families grasping each others’ hands. Each poster headlined a core value, “trust”, “diversity”, “dignity”, “servant spirit”, “integrity”, and “excellence”. “And hopefully, that is what we do,” Sandra continued, “the important thing with these is that these are some of our Angels saying in their own words how we demonstrated that core value to them. We can say that we do these things, but when somebody can show or say that we are, and that's how they felt, then that makes all the difference.”
Sometimes You Cannot Pray, You Cannot Think
Rectangles of stained glass sat in the doors of the prayer room down the hall, doors open for any who were in need. A few pews lined the room, a stack of Spanish Bibles splayed invitingly on the table in the back of the room. Scriptures in gold frames were mounted on the walls. But at the front of the small square room, a dim light illuminated the grand Bible resting on a table. It made all the difference, seeing this room amongst the hustle and bustle of the CCA serving each other. “Sometimes you cannot pray, you cannot think. Life gets so hard and then you walk into this… and you don't have to have the words, it’s him hearing your heart.” Sandra pressed her lips together and nodded. She really seemed to understand this room, what it held and what it stood for, “It's my favorite part of our whole building.”
We wound our way through the offices to the storage room, staff members smiling and greeting everyone as we passed. Inside the storage room, stacks of Barbies awaited eager hands come this Christmas and a giant wreath hung from the wall. The food pantry felt like a regular store with full shelves of dry goods, breads, drinks, and fruits and vegetables. On Fridays, volunteers take all perishable items to feed the homeless, ensuring nothing goes to waste, Sandra said. In the rooms off of the food pantry, crates of dry goods were stacked to the ceiling. Workers with smiles and forklifts were replenishing and sorting food all around me. A clipboard swung from a nail on a wall next to me, checking in all supplies that came in or out. “90,000 pounds - dry goods”, it read. I blinked, this place felt bottomless. So much time, money, food, supplies, toys, love and care and so many volunteers and staff, and yet still the need was growing. CCA seemed to be giving and giving and never falters in strength or warmth, always replenishing from the One who never grows weary.
The Worst Thing I Can Do is Feed Somebody
A broad-shouldered young man was busy near us, plastic bag in hand. He dropped a few water bottles into the bag as Sandra pulled him aside to talk to us. Colin, was his name, a former Amazon worker who had recently started in the CCA food pantry. His eyes were warm as I asked about his work, he reached down into the pocket of his cargo shorts and pulled out a handful of Pokemon cards. “I want them to remember when they grow up, ‘Oh, we went to a weird grocery store, not to a food bank.’ I had to go to a food bank and shelters when I was a kid with my mom. I just want the kids and families to have the experience with dignity.” He held up his grocery bag full of sandwiches and water bottles, “[What] I love the most [about working] here is pretty much the worst thing I can do is feed somebody. That's what we're doing now, just putting a lunch together. We have some regulars who come in. We never turn anyone away.”
Walking down the sidewalk as my tour came to a close, my mind was reeling with information. So many facets, so comprehensive, so holistic. A mom was loading groceries into the back of her minivan, her two children hovering near her. I walked by them and smiled, “I like your Pokemon card.”
Sandra directed me to a white stone statue of Jesus near the door, his arms spread in blessing over all who walked under him. “The most amazing thing I ever saw,” Sandra said quietly, eyes bright, “is a homeless man came by with one of the bottles of water that he received and he washed Jesus' feet.” she nodded, personally stricken by the memory. Something heavy was placed on my chest at the sight of this unadorned statue of Jesus, blessing this simple sidewalk in Lewisville. And the blessings surely were there.
Sandra's role, she explained, included talking to churches, chambers and anyone who would listen in the 30-second time frame she had to speak at a podium. But here at the hub of CCA, she positively gushed. She rattled off information with passion, sharing hellos and smiles with every passerby in the hallway, she hardly ever stopped for breath. “You can't walk in and not feel a sense of peace that ‘Lord, I'm doing what you want me to do.’ I don't have to be the largest Christian, I don't need the show. It's about giving them their dignity. They don't have to know my name, it doesn't come back to me at the end. I just want to help.”
At Jesus’ Feet
I walked back to my car, the heat radiating off the pavement, past the statue of Jesus. I wondered how many other things have been laid at the feet of that statue, at the feet of Jesus. Water, most definitely, and maybe even a Pokemon card.
It has taken them a lot to walk through that door. So why wouldn't we try to treat you with dignity? We're not giving them a handout, we're gonna give them a hand-up.
You can't walk in and not feel a sense of peace that ‘Lord, I'm doing what you want me to do.’