Dos Mil Manzanas

“Dos mil manzanas.” Two thousand apples. A donation I requested from one of my running partners a decade or so ago. She’s a buyer or executive or someone with the power at Stater Bros., a Southern California grocery store chain, to make such gracious donations happen at the sound of her voice… and for the last ten years or so she’s done just that for our Free Community Wide Thanksgiving Dinner, so that none would go alone or without on Thanksgiving Day.

This year Stater Bros. called me to remind me of the donation. WoW. They’re shipping 3,000 apples to be lovingly packed with a navel orange, candy, nuts and a handwritten note by one of our many volunteers with wishes for the best Thanksgiving ever. I don’t even know how much apples cost- but I know they’ve donated well over 25,000 that have blessed the hungry, the lonely, the elderly, the forgotten… on a day when too many, for whatever reason, have a tough time holding on to hope.

I haven’t run a step in over 6 months. Possibly the longest drought in my adult life… no injuries… just not getting out the door in the morning. I’ve not run with our running group – a pretty wonderful collection of people – in longer than I remember.

We’ve run so many miles in quiet neighborhoods, up and down the toughest hills in town, high fived each other at local races, ran marathons in multiple states… We’ve laughed, sweat and wept together through weddings, divorces and sadly untimely and tragic death. I may not be running right now… I couldn’t keep up with them without months of training… even still, I belong.

I prize the wealth of community, especially at the holidays. When the “apple call” came to our office – I thought of great conversations – running stride by stride with a friend– and smiled: I’m not the only one who remembers.

I often think of a conversation shared just outside Narok, Kenya with a group of Maasai teachers. We’d come to share at a small school and the morning quickly turned into questions and answers about life in the states: “How far do you have to walk for water?” Stuff like that. Leaning onto one knee, a woman in her thirties asked me: “How often do you go into your neighbor’s home?” I confessed that after 15 years in the same house- I didn’t know too many of my neighbors and had never had a meal in any of their homes.

Shocked, looking around at the others, she said: “We’re in and out of each other’s homes a dozen or more times a day. I don’t care how rich you are- if I can’t know my neighbors, I don’t want to live there.”

She didn’t mean to be rude and the morning ended with hugs and I know I’m still very welcome among them… just the same, suddenly, I felt suspect. What kind of place… people… did I come from?

Answer the phones with us this week as people call and ask for a meal – too many of them – “just one please. I’m alone.” And I wonder about us also.

Then I remember the dozens of you cooking turkey, donating pie, sending in a check, ready to spend next Wednesday and Thursday serving side by side with us. It’s what I believe Central Community is at her best – an invitation away from being alone and into community and fellowship – a place where we can become real “neighbors” who never forget – even when we don’t get together and “run.”

Thanksgiving and our 25th dinner is just days away. If you’ve not been invited anywhere yet- you’re invited to come spend some time with us. And, if like my friend at Stater Bros., you have the ability to make something wonderful happen for people who need a little wonder in their lives this year- take a chance –go big for God. It’s one of the small ways we begin to get back into each other’s hearts and homes.

Most importantly – Don’t Be Alone this Thanksgiving – come on out and share the day or just the dinner. We belong together.