The Boxes that Weighed Me Down: My Most Profound Move

 

When we moved to an apartment in the northwest suburbs of Chicago, we were only there eight months when systemic remodeling at the apartment complex caused us to move. However, it was within the same apartment complex, just down the sidewalk into a different building, in another first-floor apartment.

We asked for help moving and we had several people from our church come and help us--but most of those who came were homeless.

It was those homeless we knew from our contacts with homeless in the area--and we knew many of them. Ed had a way with connecting with the homeless, and we became involved with a couple of local ministries, and even began a laundry ministry coordinated with two other churches in the area.

We spent many Saturdays sitting across the table from homeless as they did their laundry at the local laundromat. This was the result of a need we saw in the homeless community—the ability to wash their clothes.

We worked with two other churches, one who provided the quarters for the laundromat, and one who served meals on a Saturday morning, gave out laundry soap and dryer sheets, and had the sign-up sheet for the laundromat.

After the lunch meal at that church, we would go over to the local laundromat and hang out with the individuals who came to do laundry.

Also, we spent many hours serving meals and then sharing a meal with them. We served at several different PADS* sites, either as a volunteer or providing food.

We learned a lot about the homeless in the Chicago suburbs. We learned they were just ordinary people, and no one “homeless” stereotype fit them all. Some enjoyed being homeless, living on their own schedule and living on their own. Some of them worked, but simply did not make enough to rent a place and pay utilities. Some had health issues that lead them to homelessness, and some, yes, were a result of substance abuse. Some of them had jobs, some of them lived out of their cars.

We also learned that they did indeed, carry most of their possessions on their back. Yes, some of them had stuff stored at a friend’s house, or in a storage unit, or hidden in the bushes somewhere in town. But for the most part, the things they needed on a daily basis were in their backpack on their back or stowed in their car for those that had vehicles.

And we are talking about an ABSOLUTE need. I knew homeless people that would not even carry those sample size of toiletries or a toothbrush because they knew they would get new ones at the next PADS site. Nor would they carry more food than what they might eat that day.

I was not often privy to the contents of those backpacks, but I knew of items turned down when they needed to make the decision whether to put those items on their back and carry it with them throughout the entire day.

And so much of their experience goes into the decision for each item they--what items they perceive as being of enough value for them to literally carry it on their back.

This was the epitome of minimalist living. Only the absolute, most essential items made the cut.

And here before me were several homeless people, helping us move our many boxes from one apartment to the next. Many of the boxes they carried were boxes that were still closed from our move to Chicago. I had no idea what was in them, and obviously hadn't opened them during those eight months in the other apartment.

What would I keep if I looked at everything I owned under the lens of homelessness?

And everyone worked very hard and helped us move our LARGE quantity of boxes from one apartment to the other. We were short on boxes, and at one point I was unpacking some of the books and dishes so the empty boxes could be refilled over in our other apartment. It was a cold October day as the volunteer “moving crew” carried boxes from the one apartment to the other. In and out of the two apartments for several hours.

When we ordered pizzas and took a lunch break with everyone, I felt ashamed and incredibly humbled that these people who literally carried everything they owned on their back were working so hard to help us move our boxes and boxes and boxes of "STUFF"!

Indeed, what was all this stuff we had accumulated over the years that I now needed so much help to move? Was it really all necessary? Did we really need all these books? Would we ever read them again, or if ever? All the clothes--some of which we never wore, or all the knickknacks that sat in my curio cabinet... Or other keepsakes, like the gravy dish that belonged to my grandmother, the figurines, or the China sitting in my hutch. How often did I use them, or even look at them? And if I had to try and carry everything I owned on my back, I daresay that many of these items in my curio cabinet and hutch would NOT make the cut! So, why am I asking people to help me move all of this?

That day bothered me deeply, and I have never forgotten how I felt that day. How I felt about all the boxes of “stuff” that weighed me down. That’s how this particular move became my most profound move ever.

 

*PADS - Public Action to Deliver Shelter, a program created in partnership with area faith communities to provide overnight shelter to those in need.