Driving by... it's easy to stereo type the homeless... to think less of them and more of ourselves. I've done it. Some guy's standing on a corner with a sign that says "Will work for food," and it's hard not to think, "I'll bet." We watch the faces of people driving by our line. At the stop light, some stare as if it's finally safe to look at people from another planet... (watched one couple in a beutiful, very expensive car, actually laugh at us as they watched the line, I'm guessing we are a strange site in the darkness), others, look and than just as quickly, look away... as if that'll make the poverty at the heart of our cities go away... not looking at it. Snapped this little shot from the middle of Main St. We had a van full of workers and I had the evening to spend time with people. Holding up my phone, straddling white lines in the middle of the road, guys in line yelled: "Be careful Eric!" "Get out of the street!" Enough to make me miss my mom! Running back over to the line, a first timer, yet to get his meal, called me to his place in the long crowd. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out four $5- bills and said: "I've never been here before, but I want to thank you for what you're doing and make a contribution... I might get to come back for next weeks dinner." Looking more than a little shocked as he pushed the crumpled bills into my hand- I told him how rarely someone in line has given us cash over the last 20 years... just a few times. Instead of throwing his shoulders back and acting proud, he said: "Twenty years! That's a dollar a year. Thanks again." The line moved forward. He slipped back into the faceless crowd and guys behind him took the time to say things like: "That was really sweet." "Pretty cool Eric!" "Can you give me $5?" Twenty dollars comes and goes in our lives without us even noticing it... most of us pay more than that for the internet connection we're using. Doubt this first timer had a savings account to back up his generosity... just a heart filled with thanksgiving. From a distance, it's impossible to catch the small acts of love and humanity that keep hope alive in the heart of darkness.

The real one on one in our service takes place across the tables- at the main event - Jodi's dinner. Sunday night was our first really chilly evening... I'd foolishly worn shorts and was freezing... came home cold, cold, cold... thinking about all the guys we'd served who couldn't go home... while I pulled the blankets up close, were looking for a place to sleep on concrete... I hate complaining about when I've been cold on the streets. Jodi, always looking out for the crowd, had, along with her team, spent Sunday afternoon making huge pots of steaming, home made chicken vegetable soup It was an incredible hit. One of our regulars in line said: "I'll bet Jodi made this because she had a cold last week." Jodi's thoughtful like that... she may have been thinking about all the people who don't have anyone to make them chicken soup, get them cold medicine or care for all the little needs someone takes care of for us when we're sick. Thought it was cool that at least one person in line felt like he was being cared for and had been paying close enough attention to someone else the week before to see that they were working sick. Another guy said: "Hey! Guess this really is a soup line tonight!" So much happens across those tables... so much more than a meal served: a kind word, a smile, gentle encouragement... loving ways... it's where we're at our best - where we meet each other in service. God's blessed us in ways we never imagined, broken barriers we didn't even know we were living with, as we've shared across those tables in the middle of the night.

"This is mom..." it's hard not to hear bits and pieces of conversations as men and women try to reach out and reconnect. "Mom" reached the voice mail of her son in New York- told him she was ok, she loved him, could he call? Jaime caught up with his niece and family in Ecuador- she's still looking for a husband... preferably a U.S. citizen! One of our regulars - he speaks very little English - tried his best to reach his family in Mexico city. He's got a court date today (Monday) and he's trying to bring his son to the U.S. He held the picture of his one year old as I dialed again and again without ever getting through. We prayed, everyone had left the corner and he held out in desperate hope until I finally put the phone in my pocket and walked away. LA is so very far away from home in Mexico city, a son in New York, family in Ecuador. Sunday nights, after enjoying a meal, men and women reach out in love, doing their best to reclaim some small portion of normalcy in their lives. It almost always starts the same way: pulling out a wallet, digging through tightly folded, precious papers, they hold out a number and ask me to dial it. Anticipation begins to ignite a new spark in their eyes as I wait for the phone to ring and suddenly- hope is so thick, in the middle of the desperation, it could be cut with a knife. You did that. Your loving support pays for their calls, for every bowl of soup, each tuna sandwich, the gas in the van... not to mention the jackets... without you there'd be no jackets, blankets, warmth to wrap around the shoulders of men and women left in the cold. Each week, as Christmas draws near, people ask about the backpacks... will we still have our Christmas Party on the streets? We reassure them... Christmas is coming, they won't be forgotten... just the same... high gas and food prices have eaten into our savings... money usually saved by this time to purchase backpacks is at a premium as too many of our supporters have been hit by the financial gloom. There's never been a better time than today to make a generous gift to Jackets for Jesus. We've already reserved the huge rental truck to haul the tons of backpacks to the streets. It's coming up quickly on time to order them... and in between it all we're preparing for Thanksgiving and our 21st Free Thanksgiving Day Dinner... taking our earliest reservations ever... poverty never sleeps... people are worried... many living beyond their fear, waiting for the other foot to fall. I'm so thankful to share Jackets for Jesus with generous people like you. People who've seen the need and are quick to give. We can't put every family back together- but we can do all we can to put hope back into the hearts of that one family member who, for whatever reason, is far from home. It's one of the main reasons we go to the streets every Sunday night. Lord willing, we're going next Sunday. You're Invited! You're needed. Now, more than ever.

for changing lives,

Eric M. Denton