Be Our Guest / Richard Corona

‘Quiere papa? Would you like potatoes?’ Teens offer hope and dignity to people in need

A few months ago, I was blessed to accompany my eighth-grade family formation-confirmation students and some of their parents, as well as a few of my high school students going through the Order of Christian Initiation for Children, to the St. Vincent de Paul Food Pantry on 30th Street in Indianapolis for a morning of service.

We started by meeting at the food pantry at 7:30 a.m. When I learned that we were originally scheduled to work until 12:30 p.m., I raised a concern about travel time to and from the pantry and the need for breakfast and lunch for our young people. Our wonderful coordinator of religious education at St. Jude Parish in Indianapolis, Allison Heller, agreed to shorten our service to end at 11:30 a.m.

As students arrived, as you might expect, our eighth graders were a little sleepy and quiet—in fact, some of us adults were as well.

We started by having some Chick-Fil-A breakfast biscuits together in the pantry’s breakroom. Afterward, we were split up to work at different stations.

Some were assigned to bundle items, some were assigned to help bag items, others were assigned to help clients load food items into their cars, while I and others were assigned to distribute specific items from totes as clients filed past with shopping carts.

I was paired with Emerson, one of my eighth-grade students. I was assigned a tote of onion bags to distribute, and Emerson was to my left working a tote first of bags of potatoes, and then of sweet potatoes.

As I started to engage the clients who filed past me, greeting them in Spanish or English, it occurred to me to provide Emerson some tips.

I turned to him and encouraged him to smile and tell clients who passed him, “Good morning,” then to ask them if they would like some potatoes. More than half of the clients we served were Spanish speaking.

I taught Emerson how to say, “Buenos dias” (“Good morning”) and “Quiere papa” (“Would you like potatoes?”) Later, it becamse “Quiere camote?” (“Would you like sweet potatoes?”)

I shared with him that he had to gauge whether clients might be Spanish-speaking and to switch between English and Spanish.

At first, Emerson’s pronunciation was not perfect. As I greeted and welcomed clients, I chatted and engaged them by asking where they were from—in English or in Spanish—as well as addressing the little children sitting in the shopping carts. I knew I was setting an example for Emerson.

I could hear Emerson’s Spanish pronunciation sharpen, and he was quickly able to switch between speaking English and Spanish. I could see the joy of the clients when he would say to them, “Buenos dias. Quiere papa?” They would respond to him in Spanish as though he was family with genuine appreciation.

At one point, Emerson saw that some of the potatoes in a few of the bags had molded, and I could see a degree of anger come over him and his reluctance to give those bags to any family. He would push them to the far side of the tote.

There was an older, retired worker there moving the potatoes to our side so that we would not have to reach too far. It was funny to watch an eighth-grader pushing bags back to him, pointing out the moldy potatoes. In so doing, and unbeknownst to him, Emerson was serving as the poster child for the protection of the dignity of the poor and vulnerable, a core Catholic social teaching.

After three hours of non-stop greeting the clients and handing products out (all while standing), both our voices were starting to break. One of the pantry’s supervisors came over and asked if we needed a break.

I turned to Emerson and asked him if we needed a break and his response was, “No, we’re good.” So, we continued for another hour.

That day, I had an encounter with God the Holy Spirit as Emerson allowed himself to be the hands and feet of Jesus—to convey the love of Christ to others.

When we allow the Holy Spirit into our hearts, we can work miracles. That day, this eighth-grader touched the lives of people from all over the world—our sisters and brothers from Mexico, Haiti, Honduras, El Salvador, Venezuela and many other places, including some from here in Indianapolis. Many of the clients are marginalized, and many come to the United States to escape persecution in their home countries, and they come with nothing but hope in the goodness in others.

That day, Emerson and the rest of our group helped to feed more than 1,300 clients. Emerson was the face of Jesus. He was for many the first semblance of welcome into this country of ours.

To hear it in their own native Spanish from an American youth had deeper meaning, and it provided hope.

I was reminded that we serve others not because of what they can offer us, and regardless of where they are from, what their native language might be, their style of life, their views on certain issues or whether or not they are Catholic or Christian.

We serve because we are Catholic. To think that I worried that these eighth-graders might not have the strength to endure five hours of service.

I was humbled by a certain student filled with the Holy Spirit.

As Pope Leo XIV told the youths of the United States in November during the National Catholic Youth Conference in Indianapolis: you are not the future Church but the Church of the present. The Church needs you.

As adults we encourage, and we may even serve as role models. But we too must trust in God and step aside and marvel in the miracles our youths can make happen.
 

(Richard Corona is a member of St. Jude Parish in Indianapolis.) †