April Appeal
Dear Friends,
Peter, circa 1999
Last month I threw away two old picture frames while I was cleaning the basement at our 2nd Avenue boarding house. One of the residents, while taking out household trash, saw the picture frames in the trash can and noticed there were still pictures in them. He asked me, “Are you sure you want to throw these away? There are some great old pictures.” When I saw what I had done, I quickly saved the frames and the pictures, several of which I have included in this letter. It was such a trip down memory lane seeing pictures of folks who had been regulars at the dining room and shelter twenty to twenty-five years ago, many of whom have long since moved on or passed away. But a couple of us are still around. There is me with dark brown hair and a ponytail, Pat looks so young it’s hard to recognize him, and the picture of Mike doesn’t look much different from what he looks like now (Thanks for making the rest of us look bad.).
Pat and Judy, circa 1998
Day in and day out, things don’t seem to change much with our work, but when I see the old pictures, it really makes me realize how much time has passed. April 1st marks thirty years that we have been operating our little dining room. In many ways little has changed. Sure, our hair is thinner and grayer, we’re sporting more pounds than we would like, and many of the faces have changed. But those things are minor, because what is most important has stayed the same these past thirty years. As an organization, we are still here serving those most I need in our community. We have started and ended several service projects as the needs of the community have changed over the years, but our core projects and goals remain the same. Every night we host six people in our homeless shelter who are in desperate need of emergency shelter; our two boarding homes are still providing dignified affordable permanent housing for a total of eighteen people; our house in Oakland is providing transitional housing for people coming out of prison; our Dining Room still serves fifty to sixty people a hot meal five mornings a week, and up to fifteen people use our shower services each morning; and we are regularly in nursing homes and occasionally at jails visiting those we serve.
And even though I, and all who work at Catholic Worker Hospitality House, could qualify for Social Security benefits, we are still going strong. We still enjoy our daily work at the Dining Room and the overnight shifts at the shelter. We are still strengthened by
the community we have with our coworkers, volunteers, and those we serve. Most days, we are thankful for all that we have: stable housing, meaningful work, and people with which to share our lives. And every day we are thankful for all of you, whose generous support have made this work possible for the past thirty years. We wouldn’t still be here without you. We hope that you will help keep us going for another thirty years, or more realistically considering our age, another fifteen to twenty years. As always, thank you so much for your continued generous support of our work with those in need.
In Christ’s Peace,
Peter Stiehler
For all of us at
Catholic Worker Hospitality House
“It’s gotta be the Joy”
by Brendan Walsh
Some say working the soup kitchen
best defines the Catholic Worker.
Some say opening your home to the lonely and destitute
best defines the Catholic Worker.
Some say resisting the war makers, doing the time,
refusing to go along with the greed and violence
best defines a Catholic Worker.
Some say it’s all of these, knowing full well that the best we can do
is plant a few seeds, knowing full well
the harvest is a long time coming.
But, deep down, really, in our heart of hearts, we know
It’s gotta be the joy!
You lose the joy, you lose it all.
No joy, no hope.
No joy, no endurance.
No joy, no understanding of the suffering.
No joy, no meaning to life.
No joy, and it’s just another year in Guantanamo.
No joy, and we’re all just doing time on the planet.
Oh, yeah –
It’s gotta be the joy!