The Meaning of Charity

Our four boxes (marked) were passed out later that day.

Yesterday I dropped off four boxes of non-perishable food at CALL Primrose, a Burlingame food-outreach venture founded by the Presbyterian and United Methodist churches.

It was a few days after the deadline, but the items were gratefully received nevertheless. The bright side of my tardiness was that (previous years' posts are here, here, and here) I was there for the Thanksgiving food distribution. Clients had filled out a form months earlier and received a claim ticket; from the carefulness with which they removed it from their wallets it was something precious to them.

Donating food boxes requires some organization, because CALL Primrose has standardized the contents ("Please stick to the list to ensure all boxes we distribute are the same"). Our parishioners check off the items on the list stapled to each box, and I complete the unfilled items (this year we were 15 cans/packages short). For the record each box contained:

2 cans (15 oz) yams

1 bag (16 oz) mini marshmallows

2 cans (15¼ oz) corn

2 cans (14½ oz) green beans

2 cans (14½ oz) fruit (any fruit or fruit cocktail)

1 can (14 oz) cranberry sauce

1 box (6 oz) stuffing mix

1 box (13-14 oz) instant mashed potatoes

1 jar/can (12 oz) chicken/turkey gravy

1 box (8 ½ oz) cornbread / muffin mix

1 bottle (48 oz) vegetable cooking oil

1 bag/box (16 oz) pasta

1 can/bottle (20 oz) pasta sauce

1 box (5 oz) chocolate jello pudding/pie mix

1 no-bake graham cracker pie crust, and

1 can (14 oz) condensed milk.

CALL Primose' Thanksgiving and similar activities have often made me contemplate the meaning of charity. I could write (or ask the church to write) a check for, say, $100 a box and ask CALL Primrose to buy the supplies, which they have said they would be happy to do. That would save me the time of making the announcement, assembling the boxes and posting a list on each, counting and backfilling the inventory, and transporting the containers to Burlingame. Against this personal cost is the benefit of group participation, especially by our children, in helping others in our community.

Such an analysis is not that simple; inputs should include the valuation of my personal time and the amount of my net worth. For example, if both were very high I could pay a teenager say, $20 an hour, to do everything. The solution would be win-win-win (CALL Primrose, the teenager, and me), yet I have a feeling that I'm missing something.

Well, too many brain cells have already been expended on what should be a simple act of charity. I'll just keep doing the same thing every year until I can't do it anymore.