At last, at last, the Girl Scout cookies have arrived. You all remember when I ordered 39 boxes back on Day 178 in January from the famous Ruby. I may not have mentioned then that the troop had also offered an option to donate to City Harvest, whose mission is to rescue food for New York City’s homeless. I made a donation, and today I got an e-mail from Alyson, Ruby’s mom (who, by the way, is the cool mom every little girl dreams of: not only is she on-board with the cookie drive, but she’s the singer in a rock band. Sorry, other moms around the world, but it had to be said.).
Anyway, Alyson sent this lovely note along to the cookie-purchasers, which made me cry on the bus on my way to pick them up. Thanks for this, Alyson.
My Dear Friend,
The Girl Scout Cookies came in this week!
On Monday, the truck from City Harvest came to pick up the stacks and stacks of cases of cookies that our Brownie Troop’s generous friends like you donated to those in need. Troop leader Laurie was thrilled to be able to see her living room floor again. Curious about the delivery process, she chose to ride along with the driver to the distribution center.
When the truck pulled in somewhere on 10th Avenue, there was a line of people waiting. Bundled in coats and blankets against the constant chill from the Hudson River, they clutched the plastic bags of their possessions tightly or kept shopping carts near, stuffed with sleeping bags, broken suitcases and more bulging plastic bags.
The big driver lugged the first cases of Thin Mints to the table where food was being shared with those in line. An old man stared at the box, then stepped forward, eyes alight. He told the driver and Laurie that he was a veteran who had been homeless for a very long time. He had given his life to his country and found he had nothing left afterward, but time. Hands trembling, he picked up a box of cookies.
He told them how much they reminded him of being a kid. “This is the first time in a long time,” his voice broke, “that I feel like a person again.”
A fat tear ran down the burly driver’s face. Everyone cried.
Thank you from the bottom of our collective Troop 3260 hearts – young and not-so-young – for the sweet kind of kindness that touches the souls of strangers.
I love you,