I VOLUNTEER TO HELP OTHERS FEEL CARED FOR. DOING SO BRINGS ME JOY.

I hardly knew her, yet I loved her and she turned my world upside-down. She came in and out of our lives like storms in the night, never knowing the devastation that would be left behind. She was only 13 when I was born and she was already in a reform school in South Carolina. She never meant to hurt anyone. She was just seeking to quiet the demons in her mind. She did this with drugs, and so often with drugs comes behavior that when “clean” leads to shame, resentment and longing for another life. Her name was Christine and she was my sister.

Our family moved to San Diego for a new life. My mother was a single mom who often worked two or three jobs to put food on the table, clothes on our back and a roof over our head. Then there was now another mouth to feed. Christine gave birth to a baby boy and was trying to get her life together after an abusive relationship. This baby boy who would become like a little brother to me was drugged by Christine to quiet him one night. My mother tried everything, but she could not find a way to stop the drugs from calling Christine’s name. This is how my sister found herself on the streets. I remember driving the streets of Downtown San Diego looking for my sister, and that is how we found St. Vincent de Paul, as Father Joe’s Villages was called in the 1970s. Christine often sought

Patricia Chagnon

refuge there and was always sheltered and fed.

We all reach a point in our lives where our many years of experience shape and mold us into the people we are today. And we realize when we look at another person, we cannot know what trauma they might carry or the love that sustains them. I came to volunteer at Father Joe’s after retiring as a teacher in East County. I had children in my class who had food insecurities and sometimes lived in a car. The number of unsheltered people seemed to be increasing. I knew that they all had a family who called them by a given name, a name chosen just for them, who loved them and longed to see them sheltered and safe.

There are as many issues surrounding homelessness as there are people living in tents over a bypass, under a bridge or in an alleyway. One of my friends said that they could not see putting any more money toward homelessness since it doesn’t seem to solve the problem. They have a valid point, but I must do what I can as a volunteer. I work in the kitchen/culinary arts program and event planning to raise funds to bring an end to homelessness because I cannot live my life without doing what I can do to help someone feel seen and cared for and encourage them to dream of a home of their own.

The mission at Father Joe’s Villages is to prevent and end

homelessness, one life at a time. I am reminded of President Jimmy Carter, who said it so well, “I have one life and one chance to make it count for something. … My faith demands that I do whatever I can, wherever I am, whenever I can, for as long as I can with whatever I have to try to make a difference.” It is too daunting an issue if we look at the number of people on the streets. But if we can provide hope to just one person, it is a step toward believing in a world where we all have a home to come home to. I believe that cultivating relationships to achieve these goals through collaboration and valuing the gifts that each individual contributes is how the greatest change will occur.

I used to say that I dedicated my life to serving others because someone had seen my sister, called her by her name, Christine, and had comforted her. But now I do what I do for so many more reasons. I do it because I am lucky enough to witness the change in each person we serve. I find joy in volunteering. I find purpose in working to find solutions. It feeds my soul and, at the end of every storm, there is hope for a brighter day.

FATHER JOE’S VILLAGES