When I first showed up at the offices of Project Angel Heart to begin my delivery shift, I was pretty amazed at the size of the kitchen that they had hidden inside. The area was filled with stainless steel countertops and multiple ovens and a huge freezer and numerous other devices of which I did not know the functions. While there were only a few people in the offices, the spirits seemed high. There was one volunteer, a woman of her forties or fifties, who read the rules and guidelines with us. She seemed excited to be at Angel Heart, and appeared to be about as new at volunteering there as we were. I guess I was expecting to be thrown into a mix of a bunch of regulars.
After reading the guidelines and getting a map and list of our delivery route, we loaded the car with large brown paper bags. Each bag was decorated differently. Some were not decorated at all. One bag had a collage of paper smiley faces glued to its exterior, and one was decked out in Broncos colors and insignia. All of the bags were marked with a small white sticker, indicating the name and location of the client to whom the food should be delivered. A few times I glanced inside the bags to take a peek at the goods that were creating the pleasant aroma in my car. On the top of the bags I noticed a few fresh bread rolls and a piece or two of pita bread. The meals smelled amazing. The delivery process was not quite as difficult as I had expected it to be. I thought the destinations would be spread apart and hard to find. They were actually all very close together, and fairly simple to locate. It was a little eye-opening to see some of the clients’ residences. I remember one apartment complex where the outdoor stairs seemed to be hanging on by a thread. I couldn’t imagine anyone much heavier than my weight walking safely up and down those stairs. But some of the residences were also pretty nice. I remember, in particular, one apartment building that looked like it was pulled out of a Traditional Home magazine. The exterior was composed entirely of sand-colored stones, and each apartment had its own buzzer by the front door of the building. From the short glance I got inside the building, since the client picked up his meal at the front entrance, it looked as though the apartments were spread out so that each one allowed sufficient privacy for its residents. If one thing was constant throughout the delivery shift, it was that all of the clients we delivered to seemed thankful and kind.
The delivery shift taught me that assumptions can be extremely misleading. I may not have expected to see some of the nicer homes that we did, and I may not have expected such extensive gratitude from the clients. However, anything that was a surprise to me that day was a positive one. I honestly enjoyed going on the delivery route and seeing the smiles on people’s faces when we handed them their brown paper bag. I am glad to have had this experience.
I know what you mean about the houses and apartment buildings. I had not really expected to see such nice houses on the delivery shift. I remembered hearing that PAH serves meals to anybody with a terminal illness despite economic wealth or lack thereof. But I didn't actually expect to deliver meals to houses with Cadillacs in the driveways. I too was impressed by the kindness that the recipients showed towards us. They smiled, thanked us, and were nice on every level possible. It seems as if we both went to the delivery shift with expectations that were soon shattered. And the fact that my expectations were shattered along with my nerves only makes the experience that much more rewarding.
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