One Thousand Tracings

While cleaning out the basement, I re-discovered one of my favorite books, One Thousand Tracings by Lita Judge. Rereading it caused me to pause and think about my simple contributions toward the virus. What can I do amidst so much pain and worry?

The book, based on the author’s discovery in her grandmother’s attic, focused on a box containing many envelopes with foot tracings of people from all over Europe. Americans received the foot tracings from those in need and sent shoes matching them. This powerful story reminds readers of the importance of helping others in need.

During this virus, I am trying to think of ways to help. One way is by delivering food. A local teacher organized a relief effort, actions I applaud. However, I have to admit my skepticism. Do these people really need the food? Are they real? I delivered food yesterday, dropped the box in front of the door, and never saw anyone pick it up. I decided to leave, texted, and received a thank you. But why didn’t I see anyone? Upon returning home, I received another message from the person organizing the effort. “Another person needs help. Can you do it?” I declined and asked them to find another person. I already visited the grocery store to find the items for the first person and spent considerable amount of time putting the items together. Guilt plagued me the rest of the day. Should I have just done it? Should I donate to Food Finders instead? They are people who know how to deal with those in need better than me. Or is that a copout?

In the book, those in need sent letters describing their plight. Our home was bombed and we lost everything. My little girl and baby boy and I lived in a cellar with two other families for five weeks, with only beans to eat. My husband is still missing. Now we live with my father. Anything would be helpful. My little girl, Eliza, has blond hair like floating flax. Now she is pale and no longer plays. The character responded to the letter by sewing a rag doll for Eliza.

Is that part of my discomfort? Is it because I didn’t really sense a legitimate need? I didn’t see an actual person pick up the box, so I immediately became suspicious. The text I received was simple and didn’t mention the books I included for the children. It didn’t include a thanks for the diapers and pull-ups, items I had to head to the grocery store to purchase. Do I even have a right to do this? Ugh. Maybe I will focus my efforts elsewhere.

A few weeks ago, I responded to the need for child care. I packed up some groceries, included educational materials, and headed south of town to take care of three children for the afternoon. They were excited to see my materials and were open to my ideas. The mother left for work and we stayed inside for the day. The challenging part of the day came when one child became angry with a sibling over a tablet. He started throwing items in the small apartment. I felt a sense of sympathy for him but hoped he would stop if we ignored him. His anger intensified and I started feeling a sense of panic. Just as I said, “let’s pray about this”, there was a knock at the door. Their grandfather decided to stop and say hello. My smile could not have been wider. He managed to calm his grandson down much to my relief. But then I started thinking other thoughts, “Why am I here when their own relative is visiting and can take care of them?” I steered the conversation toward his home, located outside the city on a large parcel of land. “Wouldn’t it be neat to have your grandkids stay with you?” I encouraged. I texted the mom and asked if it would be better to have me leave since the grandfather arrived. No, she texted. Again, I wondered about the need. But was it my right to wonder? If someone has a need, do I have the right to question it? Did the people in the war question others needs? Again, I felt guilty for my thoughts. What is the right response to these needs?

I think the response is to pray and trust that God is working even if the needs do not seem legitimate or worthy to me. It is not really my place to do that right now. The virus is placing everyone in need of something. If I can provide a simple answer to a need, I should respond. He will do the rest.