A family’s gift to others and itself

Published July 2006 WNC Parents Magazine

download Word version

By David Cornwell

When my wife said we needed to find a volunteer effort that we could do as a family, I nodded my head in agreement, figuring, and hoping, that the idea would go away.

So I was caught a bit off guard several months later when she said we were going to start helping serve breakfast to Asheville’s needy Saturday mornings. Naturally, I did what any red-blooded American husband would do and whined, “Do we have to?”

Yes, she said.

And so we did.

Now all I can say is “wow,” what a transforming experience helping Adam Ripley and his “Least of These” ministry has been for the Cornwells. If there is only one thing you can give your family this year, like Mona did, figure out a way to give of yourselves.

So many of us sit on so many committees and boards working to change this or that for the better. Many more write checks to help one or another cause. And this is good.

But there’s an instant gratification to hands-on helping that’s just not there in other forms of giving, partly I guess because you truly are giving of yourself. When you help give people in need a hot breakfast of bacon, eggs, pancakes, sausage, eggs, and grits, you know immediately that you’ve helped make the world a better place even if for just a few hours for just a few people. And unlike committees and boards, you’re doing it as a family.

I don’t want to sound sanctimonious about what we’re doing. Remember I’m the whiner. The boys whined, too.  But I want to emphasize what volunteering as a family has meant to my family and can mean to yours.
Were their Dad more of a success, we’d probably vacation in exotic locales and their lives would be enriched by a variety of material goods and activities that we simply can’t afford. But getting to know Asheville’s needy has broadened their lives substantially more than big screen TVs, trips to the slope, the beach, Disney World, wherever.

It has shown each of us that the layer of humanity many people just write off or lump together as “bums” is actually a rich tapestry of dreams and experiences, that you can’t stereotype people, that you can’t be too quick to judge.

It has taught the boys responsibility, giving them important jobs in the operation and on equal footing with the adults. And if you could hear them chattering back and forth from the pancake grill to the sausage grill like they’ve been short order cooks all their lives, you’d know the experience is also strengthening their bond as brothers.

Helping those less fortunate has taught them to appreciate what they’ve got by seeing how little others have.
In Adam Ripley, it has provided a role model. For those who don’t know, Adam, then a student at Montreat College, began his ministry to help deal with his own depression. Through the week, he goes about accumulating the groceries for Saturday morning, packing the equipment that will be needed into the back of his station wagon, cracking and beating 30 dozen eggs, mixing gallons of pancake mix and all the other chores associated with his Saturday morning breakfast.

In Adam Ripley, it has helped them realize that one person can change the world.

And no matter how many times they’ve gone to Wal-Mart for some metal and plastic whatever for a classmate’s birthday party, this is probably the first time in their lives that they’ve ever really understood that it truly is better to give than receive. It has taught the boys more of the ways of Christ than any Sunday school class likely ever can.

Finally, it gives our family that most precious commodity of all, family time, including Neal and Graham’s grandparents, who are hooked, too. Because for all of us, that’s what helping has become – an addiction. And not meaning to sound selfish, but truth be told, we do it as much for ourselves as those we help.
As ministries go. Adam’s “Least of These” ministry is a pinpoint of a ministry, but for my family it has opened a new universe. And I can’t encourage you enough to find a universe for your family, too.

David Cornwell is an Asheville area graphic and Web designer and founder of North Carolina Mental Hope, a non-profit working to provide community support for local mental health programs. He can be contacted at David@ncmentalhope.org or (828) 654-8754.