I had known for a long time that my church held a weekly volunteer event every Thursday to make sandwiches for people experiencing homelessness, but because I normally had to work, I had never gone. Later, after burning out, I forced myself to press pause on my life, and finally had the time and space to volunteer on Thursdays.
The work itself is actually quite simple: spread butter on two slices of bread, put a slice of cheese and a slice of ham between them, wrap the sandwich in foil, and place it in a bag.
There are usually about ten people each time, though it is not necessarily the same group every week. People simply come whenever they are free.
We chat while making sandwiches. There are people from France, the United States, Dubai, Nigeria, and Madagascar. We talk about what brought each of us here, social issues in France and the United States, war, and the ever-rising cost of living.
We all know that the sandwiches we make in an hour cannot change much. But at the very least, they can make today a little better than yesterday for some people experiencing homelessness.
I have never taken part in distributing the sandwiches the next day, so I do not know who ultimately received the dozen or so sandwiches I made.
Sometimes, as I make them, I cannot help hoping that when they open the paper bags, they will enjoy this simple food. If, in that moment, the sandwich makes them feel even a little warmer inside, that would make me very happy too. Sometimes we have one slice of ham or cheese left over, so we put it in the last sandwich. We always laugh and say that whoever gets that sandwich is lucky.
When the volunteer session ended, I suddenly realized that a sense of belonging does not necessarily come from being accepted by others. Sometimes, when you begin doing even a little something for the community, you gradually start to feel that you have truly become part of this place. At that moment, I finally understood what the author of The Courage to Be Disliked meant by “community.”
Perhaps happiness does not have to be anything dramatic. Sometimes, it is simply making a sandwich with care alongside a group of people you have never met before.