The week before thanksgiving, an idea started to take root in my heart. I wanted to go to Paradise, California to help the survivors of the Camp Fire, which burned over 100,000 acres, displaced around 50,000 people and took the lives of 85 residents. My husband and I made arrangements to volunteer for the Oroville Hope Center and collected donations to take down with us. On December 13^th we headed toward Oroville, the bed of our truck filled with tubs of donations, over 300 pounds of dog food, almost 20 pillows stuffed in the cab and over $900 in gift cards in my purse.

On Friday we volunteered with Pastor Dennis Day at the Evangelical Free Church in Paradise, California assisting volunteers working in the area and residents returning to their burned properties. The church had the only functional bathroom on the hill that wasn’t a porta potty.

We helped out doing whatever we could.

Canned goods sat piled on bare tables along one wall of the chapel, chairs had been stacked out of the way to accommodate the donations. A man stood back from the tables, just looking. He was alone. I entered the quiet room and asked if I could get him a box and load him up with food.

“No, I just…” He turned his attention back to the food, not finishing his thought.

“It’s overwhelming.” I said.

He kept staring, but he wasn’t looking at the food. He finally explained that he wanted some food, but didn’t want to take it with them while they went through the ashes. Didn’t want to risk contaminating the food with the toxic ash. He looked down the row of tables, landing on a can of hominy, his voice picked up.

“I saw the hominy, and I thought of pozole. How I’d normally have a fire going right now, the smells of different soups filling the house. I saw the can and thought, maybe I could make a small batch.” His energy sagged again. “But there’s nothing to even make the pozole in. There’s no point. We’re just moving piles of ash. It’s a mountain.” He paused.  “How will we ever move the mountain?”

I had no answer. I only had a can of hominy. So I pressed that into his hands. “Take the hominy. Take it for later. When you can finally make pozole.”

That seemed like some kind of answer. He was grateful. He said he and his family were lucky. They might have lost their home, but his whole family made it out. His neighbor wasn’t as fortunate.

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They said, “We have enough. We’ll leave it for the others. The others.”

The wife’s throat closed around the words when she said so many had already generously given to them, including those who didn’t even have the means. I couldn’t say anything. Not because I couldn’t think of what to say, but because my throat lumped up simultaneously with sadness at their situation and in awe at the goodwill people have within them. I hugged her around the shoulders and then filled a box with the Tyvek suits and a couple things they didn’t ask for. Water. Granola. They were grateful for socks.

Everyone was grateful.

They were even grateful for my husband and I. That so many people in Eugene, Oregon cared and sent love down I-5 in the form of blankets and pillows and gift cards and thermals. In the form of my random but purposeful desire to help the people of a town I didn’t know and had never been to. At the end of the day, Pastor Dennis took our hands and said a prayer of thanks for us and a prayer for our safe travels. He said he would never forget us and that we were welcome back anytime.

I don’t know if I’ve ever felt more appreciated in my life.

Last night I dreamt I found gift cards  in our truck. They were meant for the people of Paradise but somehow got overlooked. I know it’s because I feel the pull of desire to do more, and the guilt at not being able to have done more. A little sadness for not staying longer.

I won’t ever forget this experience. I won’t ever forget that if I lose my faith in people, I can restore it by helping those in need. It seems counterintuitive, but in order to feel the love, ya gotta give it.

If you feel so compelled, you can give to the Oroville Hope Center here or you can watch their amazing work by following their facebook page here.

I hope you feel the love. It’s out there.