By Tracey Rose
The first day I walked into EMO’s Northeast Emergency Food Program (NEFP) last July, I was in a low spot. I had recently landed in Portland after unraveling a 20-year marriage. I had also left my job, unexpectedly lost my last living parent, and was living in a city where I had just two friends. I honestly felt overwhelmed at the thought of starting over in a new city while in my fifties. While sorting through the chaos, volunteering felt like a way to not only stay sane, but also to be of use to the wider world.
The hustle of my first Saturday morning food distribution crackled with positive energy, as the food pantry staff and volunteers got ready for the clients’ arrival. Bread, muffins and bagels going from rack to table, the thunk of the cooler closing and opening and closing again, and so many shopping carts rolling up and down the cement ramp. I long ago worked in industrial kitchens, so the stainless-steel tables and stacks of produce on pallets nearby were familiar, almost comforting in a way. I stood along the wall with the other newbies until it was time to start, tugging on the Velcro tab of the bright safety vest that somehow wouldn’t stay fastened.
That day was mostly a blur as a “cart runner,” assisting clients to transfer grocery carts full of food from the pantry to their vehicles. There were so many clients and so many trips to the parking lot. It was a sunny day, and people were smiling. So many unspoken communications back and forth with people from so many different countries. But what I remember most were the emotions—gratitude, happiness and love.
So, I came back to volunteer. Every Tuesday and Thursday, and then Fridays and sometimes Saturdays, I got my life-affirming dose of unity, harmony and fellowship.
And that’s when the magic really happened—I got to know more of the volunteers. Hermès, a multi-lingual volunteer who loves showing off his new English vocabulary. Shelley, the friendliest, chattiest, bubbliest cart runner. Ellen, who let me cry on her shoulder one quiet Thursday morning. Daniel, who already connected me with a job opportunity. And Beth and Leo, and Doris and Asa, and so many others. If Sam isn’t at the bread station on Thursday morning, I check with his buddies to make sure he’s OK. And I can’t leave a Saturday shift without getting my hug from Angie.
This is truly the beginning of building my new community, and I am so grateful to have found it here in Portland. NEFP depends greatly on volunteers to keep the food pantry operating, and these dedicated folks embody every bit of EMO’s mission of putting “love in action.” Can they do it without me? Of course they can; they’ve been doing it for decades. But the real question is: Can I do it without them?
Update: Tracey Rose recently joined the NEFP staff team as a volunteer coordinator.
