What I learned from delivering food to those in need. Plus, I kissed a bird and I liked it
I had never been a food delivery boy before. I had never kissed a bird before. And I had never felt so sorry for a dude who regretted, as I have many times, saying he wanted to eat more vegetables.
The problem with that last one, for those of us constantly told that we eat too much meat, is that vegetables alone – day after day – leave you begging for something more.
Craig Chavez wasn’t begging, you understand. Chavez, a 67-year-old retiree living in south Sacramento, was politely asking me if he could have something more than vegetarian meals. And I, as his delivery boy, wanted to accommodate him.
You could say that I could “feel him.” This feeling heightened to intense understanding as he asked for something more while I tried to pass him a package containing breakfast, lunch and dinner meals – all vegetarian.
I was wearing my mask. I was keeping the proper social distance. I was, in effect, volunteering to deliver meals in a city-run program shuttling food to seniors who are the most vulnerable population in this damned COVID-19 pandemic.
Having spent a day with the program last week, I can say The Great Plates Delivered is one of the ideas with the best intentions to emerge in Sacramento since our city was shut down by the coronavirus in March.
As of last week, 750 seniors were getting breakfast, lunch and dinner every day. The feds and the state were picking up most of the cost while the city kicked in 6.25 percent. As of last week, that was about $16,000. For now, the program is scheduled to last until June 10.
Food for those stuck inside
The only problem was that some early offerings were skimpy considering that city restaurants preparing the food were getting $60 for the three meals. And here I was holding vegetarian meals for a nice man who wanted more.
I scrambled back to the bus containing more meals, officials from Paratransit who were doing the driving and record-keeping, and a member of Sacramento Mayor Darrell Steinberg’s staff, to see if we could get Mr. Chavez some meat. Some protein. Something to stick to his ribs. The man was hungry and I was anxious when the answer came back:
Nope.
The manifest kept to chart every meal delivered that day clearly marked Chavez as a vegetarian. It was the result of a simple misunderstanding and it proved how challenging it is to work in hospitality – where tiny details have big consequences for hungry customers and haggard delivery people.
It was hot. We had a schedule with many more stops. We had a customer who was hungry. We couldn’t give him what he wanted.
Why? Because he had told the person taking his order that he thought he should eat more vegetables and so there it was: He was labeled as vegetarian. It was on the manifest that he was vegetarian. The restaurant providing food that day – Viet Ha on Broadway – had prepared a set number of vegetarian and non-vegetarian meals.
We left him vegetarian meals and Mr. Chavez was gracious, if a little bummed.
You see what happens when you say you think you should eat more vegetables? Trouble can follow. And in this case, we left for our next stop with a promise of changing Chavez’s order on the manifest so he could get more variety.
Because the people I saw last week are truly those neighbors who should stay indoors. They statistically face the greatest risk of contracting COVID-19 and winding up in a hospital room.
The people we saw – the people who qualify for Great Plates Delivered – don’t have people who can cook or shop for them. The program is either for couples or people who live alone. As individuals, they must earn less than $74,940 to qualify for Great Plates Delivered. Couples must earn less than $101,460.
Another requirement is that they cannot receive any other benefits from state or federal nutrition assistance programs.
Seniors with a sense of grace
What we saw on a day of delivering 31 meals was that Chavez was one of the youngest customers we had. There was 87-year-old Warren Tippie, a World War II veteran who told us he spends his day listening to tapes of the Bible.
There was Charlotte Hall, 76, who lives alone and was surprised that the meals were coming to her at all.
“I’ve never had anything like this before,” she said. “So this is nice.”
Yolanda Lopez, 84, lives alone and cannot go out safely right now. “I’ve had two open heart surgeries,” she said. “And I have asthma too. Because of this I stay home.”
The homes we saw, mostly in south Sacramento, were mid-century beauties and many of the seniors in them, such as Tippie, have has lived in the same house for 40 years or more. These neighborhoods are not gentrified. They are off the beaten path of modern Sacramento and yet the people who live here helped make the city what it is today when they were in their prime working years.
Problems with food orders or no, the people I saw were happy to receive the food. They were happy to have their door bells rung and talk to someone who was asking them how they were doing. What was most striking about the day delivering food was the sense of grace shared by the people receiving the food.
It struck me that because these people have lived longer than many of us and because of that, they seem to possess an understanding that life is about being kind in the moment, no matter the circumstances.
The people I saw have lives that have slowed down enough to understand that rushing and venting anger and passing judgment on neighbors or fellow citizens are ultimately self defeating. What were living through right now is a trying moment that will pass. Until it does, we must be better to each other while we’re all trying to survive.
We need the sense of grace that I saw as we emerge warily from our homes.
That’s why I kissed a toucan...or is it a parrot?
I had just delivered food to Saythong Chareunsouk, 68, and I heard the bird making loud noises in the background so I asked, “what kind of bird is that?”
Chareunsouk said a macaw named Candy, but birders know that short beaks make keeping appropriate physical distance tough.
Chareunsouk ran inside and returned with Candy on her shoulder. Chareunsouk was so kind, the entire experience was so uplifting, that when she asked if I would kiss her bird, what could I say?
I kissed Candy with my mask on. It’s a pandemic, after all.
This column was changed May 28 to correct the cost of the meals, and clarify the type of bird.
This story was originally published May 28, 2020 at 5:00 AM.
