
by Marie Goodwin
A man came in the other day. He was probably thirty, but was most interested in the children's DVDs. He seemed to have some mental disabilities, and I was genuinely glad to see him. Beth (the other volunteer) and I greeted him and told him he could take what he wanted…anything in the store, and he was genuinely thrilled.
On his way out he stopped by the jewelry case and held each piece, looking carefully. He said, "I can take this home too?" and we responded with an "Of course." He made his selection and walked out, chatting happily as he left.
I didn't think too much about it until about an hour later, when he returned and said, "I'm bringing this back. I just wanted to look at it at home and see how it was made." He then returned the jewelry to the case and left again.
He's been back in with his mother a few more times… they are financially insecure. She's been out of work since 2010 on disability, although her disability checks have stopped and she is fighting that. She's had to sell everything to pay rent and for food. She can't afford many things for him. She is grateful for our help, for a place where he can come and seek out some things to call his own.
This is the side of the FreeStore I never imagined…that there were angles and reflections of need that I could not calculate ahead of time. The need to look closely at something. The need to choose freely in a place where price is not an issue to someone who has nothing and is insatiably curious about little things.
These vignettes keep surfacing, and I am surprised each time. This place is a teacher.
A man came in the other day. He was probably thirty, but was most interested in the children's DVDs. He seemed to have some mental disabilities, and I was genuinely glad to see him. Beth (the other volunteer) and I greeted him and told him he could take what he wanted…anything in the store, and he was genuinely thrilled.
On his way out he stopped by the jewelry case and held each piece, looking carefully. He said, "I can take this home too?" and we responded with an "Of course." He made his selection and walked out, chatting happily as he left.
I didn't think too much about it until about an hour later, when he returned and said, "I'm bringing this back. I just wanted to look at it at home and see how it was made." He then returned the jewelry to the case and left again.
He's been back in with his mother a few more times… they are financially insecure. She's been out of work since 2010 on disability, although her disability checks have stopped and she is fighting that. She's had to sell everything to pay rent and for food. She can't afford many things for him. She is grateful for our help, for a place where he can come and seek out some things to call his own.
This is the side of the FreeStore I never imagined…that there were angles and reflections of need that I could not calculate ahead of time. The need to look closely at something. The need to choose freely in a place where price is not an issue to someone who has nothing and is insatiably curious about little things.
These vignettes keep surfacing, and I am surprised each time. This place is a teacher.