STEWPOT STORIES

Since coming to Stewpot, I’ve met a lot of people along the way. My focus has never been on how they looked, talked or carried themselves. My purpose and stance has been one of just to reach out and let them know I am here to serve them. I’ve always felt that this is the place where God wants me to be. So I work each day with purpose and gratitude that His will for my life is being accomplished.

One of the first people I met was a little old man with bright eyes and a big smile. He called himself “Cajun Red”. Cajun Red always had a backpack, and sometimes would carry a walking stick. He walked up to me one particular day and said “Lady, what’s your name? Can you help me?” my response to him was I would try. We applied for his birth certificate and were able to schedule him an appointment to see an attorney for legal help. He was so thankful. To show his gratitude, whenever would come to Stewpot for lunch he’d always bring me a coke.

Cajun Red was a train hopper. He would leave and ride the train all over the United States and come back and tell me all kinds of stories about his adventures. Traveling was something he really loved. When he turned 62, I helped him apply for his social security benefits for which he was approved. Once again I got a coke and a “Thank you Ms. Mary”. After he got his first check, he mentioned to me he was ready to settle down and get an apartment. And he did. I would often receive a call to tell me he was leaving home to visit his mom in Memphis. I guess he wanted someone to know where he was going to be. When he got out of pocket and even his mom didn’t know where he was she would call me and say, “Have you seem my son? Is he doing all right?” She knew all too well Cajun Red’s love for being lost in the world of traveling (train hopping). She would tell me to tell him, when I heard from him, to stay prayed up and that she loved him.

A few years later his mom passed away. The family called looking for Cajun Red, and I hadn’t heard from him. Then, one day last year, a lady called from Beaumont, Texas saying that they were looking for his family because he was very sick. I passed on to her the information I had concerning him and after that, nothing.

Where are you my friend? I have often wondered if my friend went on to meet his maker in Heaven or if he is still somewhere out there hopping trains and traveling around the United States.

Written by Mary Thompson

Carlos has been coming to Stewpot for eight years. He is a young man, 31 years old, and for a long time you could always tell who he was by the extremely large matted-down dreadlocks that had overtaken his very small head. He wore the same outfit, walked head down, didn’t speak to anyone, and usually spent his time rocking back and forth in a chair or standing up for long periods of time with his hands raised over his head. He would have outbursts of anger that would come out of nowhere, and since he didn’t communicate, no one could ever figure out why or what was wrong. At the Opportunity Center, people used to make fun of him and his hair, the way he smelled, and how he acted. No one knows what happened to him- some of our clients remember him in younger years as a “normal” happy kid; we only know that there has must have been some kind of major physical or mental trauma in his life.

We have been actively working with Carlos for about 2 years now on small things. Life skills like basic hygiene, carrying on conversations, and other things that would help us to build a relationship with him. We wanted to help him feel safe, respected, and loved.

Clients around the Opportunity Center know that you don’t mess with Carlos. When we built up that relationship of trust, his successes began, and we have seen him blossom. One of the first things that occurred was to get him into see a doctor at Hinds Behavioral Health, then to get him the prescribed medication and get him connected with a Case Worker. Carlos is now successfully taking his medication every day. It was a slow process but now he not only reminds us, but he also goes to the pharmacy to get his refills himself. He has conversations with us and helps us with the daily things at the Center. He mops floors, he laughs at jokes, and he interacts with groups that come to help do things at the center.

One day, Carlos announced that he was ready to get a haircut. People had been trying to get him to cut his hair for years! They had offered him money, food, and everything with no luck. As his health and recovery progressed, we kept asking him about his hair. but told him “Let us know whenever you’re ready and we’ll make it happen.” When he told us he wanted a haircut, there was such a flurry of excitement! He was ready! We made plans with a former client to cut his hair at Gateway that afternoon. They cut about 5 lbs of matted hair from his head and years of baggage from his heart. He was beaming!

From that day forward, Carlos’ recovery has steadily improved. He sees his doctor regularly. He was approved for his disability and is at the top of the list for his own apartment with the help of Hinds Behavioral Health. He will probably never work in a “real” job because of his mental disability, or achieve the world’s version of success, but he is a super success in our eyes! He has come so far.

Carlos has succeeded at living; living in a world from which he had run so far. Now he is coming back into it- one step at a time. Every time we see his smile, or gets a new, fresh haircut, we remember how far he has come, and it encourages us to keep giving for the next Carlos that comes across our path.

When you consider the homeless, you rarely think of them as “beautiful people” in the physical sense of the word. Their clothes are generally thrift shop specials or free-for-alls from the local soup kitchen and probably don’t fit just right. Their hair isn’t cut neat or fixed in the latest fashion. The bag they carry on their backs is not a fashion statement but, rather, a practical means to carry their life’s belongings with them everywhere they go. Not to say, though, that those blessed with natural beauty don’t exist within this community. But sometimes we miss it when we dismiss them all because of their status in our world.

I met one such “beauty” not too long ago. “Felicia” has been in and out of homelessness for several years now. Her battle to stay in her right mind has been a struggle, and she has lost many bouts with it. I first ran into her on the street in front of Stewpot one day as she waited for the doors to open so she could eat lunch. She had a scarf tied tightly around her head and was wearing a dress several sizes too large so that it seemed to swallow her body. Nothing was really different about her from anyone else in the crowd that day.

A few days later, I ran into her again. This time she was at our women’s shelter. As I sat with her through life skills classes and talked with her about her goals and challenges, I was drawn to her eyes. They were big and dark but full of hurt and disappointment. Her eyes told her story. Slowly, as her medications became regulated and she spent more time in the shelter than on the streets, her eyes began to change. Traces of what life had been so far were still there, but another chapter was being written. As her eyes changed, so did her face.

One day, it struck me how beautiful she was. Her dark skin and short haircut gave her the look of a goddess. The way she carried herself and moved with ease from one place to the next reminded me of old movies where the heroine saves the day and never breaks a sweat. Her mind and spirit were obviously changing little by little, and this was reflected in her appearance.

Unfortunately, Felicia was not able to sustain her change. Her mental illness got the best of her again, and she slowly slipped back into her erratic behaviors. Eventually, she was not able to live peacefully in the shelter with the rest of the women and had to move out. I see her every now and then on the street or at the bus station. When I look at her now, with her hair tied up and her clothes that don’t fit, I still see the beautiful woman that had emerged while she was at the shelter. I know that person is still inside her, waiting to come out again.

My name is Jamie. I want to talk about how I became homeless, what assistance helped me to improve my condition, and how I am continuing to work and improve.

First, I want to say that I am now responsible for providing shelter for myself. However, I know now that everything that led to me being homeless was the direct result of my decisions. I made decisions based on self-gratification, which later placed me in a position to be hurt. I wish I could say that I was a victim, but for me that was not the case. I moved from place to place using anyone who allowed me to use them for money, food, or shelter. I have both a legitimate mental illness, and a long history of addictions. Neither of these means I was forced to make the choices I made. I always had the choice to give up or to fight for better. Looking back, I can see that I expected various homeless programs and random people to save me. However, I had given up on myself. By the time I was accepted to stay at Matt's House, I just didn't want to sleep on the streets anymore. I really didn't expect that staying there would help me want better for myself. I thought I was too good to stay at a shelter. The first time I was offered a bed there, I made an excuse about being afraid to be around drugs. So, I ended up moving in with a lady who stole my food stamps, possibly claiming me as a dependent on her taxes, and filing disability for me with her as the recipient of the money.

When I was finally able to leave from that horrible situation, I went to the UMMC psych ward to get stable on my medicines again, and I was referred to Matt's House. When I made it to Matt's House, I was in a stage of substance abuse called “the phenomenon of.” This happened because I had ingested substances for an extended period of time which changed my brain structure. Because I had used too many drugs it seemed as if I would die without them. While I was at Matt's House I continued to use drugs but I always knew that it was the wrong thing to do. The people at the shelter treated me with love and helped me through this very hard struggle. They loved me so much until it motivated me to love myself. They listened and actually cared about what I had to say and what I was going through. They helped me get my confidence and self-esteem back and equipped me with all the resources I needed to move forward with my sobriety. They saw my potential and encouraged me to fight. My success is a struggle but I am working on it.

“When I was young, I wanted to be a missionary,” says Judy Varner.’” “But I learned in life that you don’t have to go to Africa to be a missionary; there is much work to be done right here in Jackson.”

Judy Varner is a retired registered nurse and a longtime member of Christ United Methodist Church in Jackson. She began volunteering with Stewpot in 1984 in what was then the Sims House Transitional Shelter for Women and Children. She helped with everything from transporting women to job interviews to buying groceries for the house. She even made her work at Sims House a family project, often including her husband and kids. In fact, her kids - Charles Jr., David, and Helen Ann - enjoyed coming to Sims House so much that they told their dad, “If anything ever happens to mom, just take us to Stewpot.” Because of the family environment, they felt that they would be well taken care of.

Mrs. Alma is one of our regular shoppers in the Stewpot Food Pantry. She is 91 years old and uses a walker. Since she no longer drives, she has someone bring her from Edwards to Jackson to pick up groceries from Stewpot each month.

On one particular visit to the pantry, Mrs. Alma met Judy (who by then had become a faithful pantry volunteer). Judy bagged Mrs. Alma’s groceries and delivered them to the car. But when Judy returned to the Pantry, she noticed that they both had left one of Mrs. Alma’s grocery bags on the counter, and she was not able to catch Mrs. Alma before she pulled away.

Judy felt terrible about this, so she asked our pantry manager, Stephanie Echols, for Mrs. Alma’s contact information. Since we only had Mrs. Alma’s address, Judy found an old phone book when she got home and matched the address to a phone number. (Take that, Google!)

On her fourth try, Judy finally got Mrs. Alma on the phone. Judy explained that she was the volunteer from the Stewpot Food Pantry who was passing out groceries the day that she had visited, and she wanted to deliver the frozen meats that were left behind in the shuffle of putting the other groceries in the car.

They set up a time, and Mrs. Judy came back to Stewpot, repacked some frozen meats to give Mrs. Alma, and Mrs. Judy and her husband, Charles, made the delivery. Upon arriving at the house, Mrs. Alma thanked her for being so gracious as to bring the food all the way to Edwards. Mrs. Judy, Charles, and Mrs. Alma visited and what was supposed to be a delivery turned into a friendly conversation.

Mrs. Judy Varner is one of the many compassionate volunteers who is committed to helping Stewpot with its mission of feeding not just the belly but also the soul. Her act of kindness toward Mrs. Alma is an example of what our volunteers possess inside and out. Through our volunteers, our friends who come for help know that we care about them and their well-being beyond their immediate need.

And, if you ask Mrs. Judy, she would tell you that the simple gesture of driving groceries to Ms Alma was a gift in itself. “I love Stewpot and the clients that come for help,” she said. “They are some of the most caring and appreciative people you’d ever want to meet. I appreciate them so much for letting me share myself and Christ’s love through me.”

We first became aware of Stewpot through our church, St. James’ Episcopal Church. St. James’ has always been a large supporter and advocate of Stewpot throughout the years. Both Louis and I served on the Vestry of St. James’ and I served as both Junior and Senior Warden. In those leadership positions we became intimately aware of how dependent Stewpot is on donations from both churches and individuals. We also learned about all of the very necessary services Stewpot provides to the neediest in our community.

St James’ also plays a role in providing volunteers to serve in various capacities at Stewpot. We have served lunch on numerous occasions and helped with the annual Stewpot Christmas Party. We have also donated to the clothes closet and other aspects of Stewpot ministries. Some of our children also volunteered at the summer camp which we have also supported financially.

I was a member of the Junior League of Jackson and lead a group who planned and installed landscaping around the teen center at Stewpot.

We give to Stewpot because we believe it provides an invaluable service to the least fortunate of our Jackson residents. We give because we believe we are called to do so by the Gospel. We give because we have the resources to do so and believe that "to whom much is given, much is required”. We give because we believe Stewpot makes an enormous difference in the lives of Jackson residents.