ARE WE OUR BROTHER'S KEEPER

"Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of My brethren,
ye have done it unto Me.  Matthew 25:40

      "Lets do something meaningful for Christmas this year," I said to the ladies of our Bible class.  We voted to gather clothing and bedding to bring to the Fred Jordan Mission in Los Angeles.  One of the ladies suggested, "We can give the $51.80 balance of our "whatever" fund, too."  Another lady said, "My husband wants to donate $100."

      Word of our project spread and by Christmas we had 29 garbage bags, stuffed full with blankets, quilts, towels and clothing of every description, to bring to the homeless on skid row.

      R.J. said, "I'll use my truck to haul the bags up to Los Angeles for you.  Lenore can go with me."  Granny Marshall, who was in our Bible class, volunteered, "I've known the Fred Jordan family and their work among the homeless for years.  Would you like me to go with you and Lenore, R.J.?"

      "That's a good idea, Granny.  We'd love to have you come along."  R.J. got sick so we could not go before Christmas.

      On January 2nd R.J. said, "I'm feeling much better now.  Call Granny and tell her to come over as soon as she can.  We'll get the truck loaded and be ready to leave when she gets here."

      "I've kind of forgotten just how to get there.  You know, when you get to be 80 years old you can't remember so good,"  Granny remarked.  R.J. said, "That's all right, Granny.  Lenore can study the map on the way."

      Arriving in downtown Los Angeles, I almost shouted, "Good grief!  Look at this traffic.  We can hardly move!  I think we're lost."  Granny said, "Now, don't get excited.  Let's pray."  I busied myself praying as we circled block after block.  R.J. asked directions from people numerous times and finally we came to the skid row district.  I shouted, "There's the sign, FRED JORDAN MISSION, a couple of blocks down the street."

      The scene around skid row is heartbreaking.  Nobody smiles.  Sad eyes peer at you from the sidewalks, hopelessness permeates the air.  "You can sense the fear reflected in their eyes," Granny said.  A big knot tightened in my stomach and a lump welled up in my throat as we circled yet another block to park in the loading zone.  I said, "What is that mattress doing there on the sidewalk, R.J.?"  Before he could answer I said, "Look at those cardboard boxes next to the buildings."  In one of the boxes sat a child of about five; just sitting there playing.  At that moment I realized he lives there--it's his home!

      I felt the tears stinging my eyes as I remorsefully prayed, "Oh God, I'm so selfish.  I've come from my warm comfortable home bringing a few crumbs for these needy people.  Please forgive me."

      R.J. asked, "Did you see that young woman pleading for the workers to let her search the bags for a warm coat?  She stood there shivering in her ragged, thin dress.  I don't think I'll ever forget the haunted look in her eyes."

      For whatever reason these people are living on the streets is not for us to judge.  The fact remains; people are homeless, hungry, and naked.  The nights are cold.

      As we snuggle under our warm cozy blankets, shouldn't we ask ourselves, what would Jesus do?  Are we our brother's keeper?  What does it mean to love one another?