I’ve always thought it peculiar how the simplest item can take on meaning beyond its practical use. A diamond ring can represent decades of commitment or a worn stuffed teddy bear can remind one of those precious years of adolescence. But this story revolves around a simple white pair of sneakers, and what they meant to a woman by the name of Mary Helen Douglas.

Mary hails from the town of Petaluma, a land known for its picturesque river, quaint architecture, butter and eggs parade, and famed World’s Ugliest Dog competition. Her parents suffered from addictive illness for the majority of their lives, and thus growing up Mary lacked supervision and support that a parental figure provides for a child. She would often have to find her own food, cook her own meals, and find her way around the town. So at the fledgling age of nineteen, Mary left for San Francisco. There she found a man who supported her, and she had high hopes for a future filled with change and prosperity. Although as she would discover, her plan would not become a reality.

Unable to find work, her bank account eventually dwindled into the red. Along with her husband, she eventually ended up on the streets, living periodically in and out of shelters. At the time they both found escape and numbed themselves through the use of drugs and alcohol. They went on like this for some time. Then, in the winter of 2005, all she loved slipped away from her. In a single week, her husband passed away from heart failure and all of her belongings were stolen at a shelter she was residing at for the week. In addition to all this, she was utterly broke, not even possessing a pair of shoes on her feet to warm her in the customary San Francisco misty cold.

Mary continued to find escape through substances, to numb the gaping holes in her life. She recalled that one night, the drugs had a terrible suicidal effect on her. During a bad trip, she had attempted to throw herself off of a seven story balcony. The sole reason she survived was through a friend’s intervention, yanking her back as she scrambled to throw herself over the side of the railing. This scared her beyond words, for not once had she ever even possessed a suicidal thought. She realized the drugs were changing her, morphing her into a stranger even to herself. She was taken to a doctor, and as he peered at her test results with dismal scrutiny, Mary was convinced of one fact: she would not be alive much longer living like this.

Observing Mary’s current predicament, a friend had told her of a program that could help: St. Anthony’s Free Clothing Program. She was skeptical having been to other assistance programs before, but decided to go anyways, her cold bare feet driving her to walk faster to Mission and 8th. When she entered the Free Clothing Program’s building, she was greeted by a man named Marcellus. His first question was a simple one, “What is your name?” She had participated in many other programs before and gone through information gathering processes almost identical to this one. Although this time she said it was different. Marcellus had locked his gaze with hers, and when he asked what her name was she felt as though he really cared. She was not just another number or random recipient of free goods. She said that even to this day he has never failed to greet her by her name. She was given all the clothing she needed: shirts, sweaters, pants, and socks. But the article of clothing that struck her the most was the pair of sneakers. When she fastened the laces, for the first time in a very long while, she felt her frigid toes started to relax. Walking no longer was a painful task, and strolling down the sidewalk in the shade of the high rises she was humbled by the comfort she had not felt in such a long while. She felt as though something about the program was changing her, if only just a bit. This measly pair of shoes gave her faith that all was not really lost, and for the first time in a very long time, she had hope.

While waiting outside of the Free Clothing Program building one day, a man approached some of the ladies waiting alongside her. He was acting outlandishly, yelling gibberish at some of the women without a discernable cause. She knew that the man was under the influence of drugs. And all of a sudden she saw her future–the drugs and the crazy behaviour that would ensue. This was not the future she wanted at all, and in that moment she found her strength again. She approached the man and in a way that only Mary Helen Douglas could, lectured him, calmed him down, and he eventually apologized to all the women.

Right then she knew that she had to change; that her life was not lost. She was referred to a couple rehabilitation centers by the staff and her road to recovery began. Looking back, those sneakers, given to warm her feet on those chilly nights, incited a change that would end up saving Mary’s life. So perhaps the next time you peer down at your feet, you can remember Mary and how something as simple as an old pair of shoes can mean salvation for another.

Tyler Merkel is a Communications & Outreach intern at St. Anthony Foundation

St. Anthony Foundation, our Board of Trustees and our Board of Directors are pleased to announce the appointment of Barry J. Stenger as our Executive Director. In St. Anthony’s 63 year history of serving the poor and low income of San Francisco, Barry is the seventh person to lead the organization.

Barry has over twenty years of nonprofit management experience. He has been St. Anthony’s Director of Development for the past eight years. He holds a Ph.D. in social ethics from the University of Chicago, taught at the Graduate Theological Union in Berkeley and Santa Clara University, and has contributed to the work of the Franciscans on the west coast in a variety of capacities.

When asked what he’s excited about in assuming these responsibilities, Barry said that he believes “St . Anthony’s is poised to enter a new and dynamic phase of its service to the community: we’re building a new Dining Room; we’re reaching out to new generations of San Franciscans who want to be involved in our work; and we’re focusing on new metrics to measure the life-changing outcomes for the guests we serve.”

Our 3rd annual Scarving Artists drive kicked off with flying colors on October 2nd. Mae Lotito, sister of the late Fr. Floyd Lotito, drove from Southern California to San Francisco in a car loaded with 400 hand knit hats for senior citizens who eat in St. Anthony’s Dining Room. The caps, knit with care by Mae and her cousin Anna Lorenz, are a perfect gift for our guests throughout the foggy and rainy San Francisco winter. Thank you, Mae, for honoring the memory of Fr. Floyd with this act of generosity.

If this story inspires you, we invite you to join our Scarving Artists drive. Whether you knit, crochet, or know someone who does, please help us by donating hats and scarves to low-income and homeless guests who eat at St. Anthony’s. We need scarves in dark or neutral colors for men as well as hats for men, women, and children. Our goal is to collect 3,000 scarves and 2,000 hats as gifts for our guests on Christmas Day.

For information on how you can be a Scarving Artist, click here.

It has been a little over a month since Matt Cain pitched the first perfect game in Giants franchise history.  The perfect game is possibly the most dramatic, intense and rare feat in all of sports.  What makes it so special?  Why is it so captivating?  Well, simply put: everyone has to be perfect.  There’s no second chance, no allowance for a mistake.  The pitcher, and his entire team, must do everything right.  No hits.  No walks.  No errors.  It’s nearly impossible.  And this is why we are fascinated.  Accomplishing what is nearly impossible makes us feel super human.  It makes us hopeful.  It reminds us we are equipped with talent and skill and connectivity that can conquer fear and uncertainty and failure.  What’s more is that the perfect game starts just as every other ordinary game – with a first pitch.  The 42,000 plus fans at the ballpark that Tuesday were probably planning to see a good game.  With a pitcher like Cain, they might have been anticipating a great game.  But it’s safe to say that no one expected to witness perfection on that night.

A month later, almost every day since, I have thought about that perfect game.  I find myself asking the same questions: What does perfection mean at St. Anthony’s?  How do we pitch a perfect game?  Would perfection be the Dining Room serving 3,000 meals with no health emergencies and no incidents?  Or would perfect be shutting the Dining Room down for a day because no one in San Francisco was hungry or without food?  Is perfect Father Alfred Center graduating a complete class of men every month or is perfection the disappearance of dealers on our corners and the temptation of liquor in our stores?

Maybe perfection is none of these.  Maybe perfection is walking with a diabetic patient and sharing your favorite healthy recipe with her.  Maybe perfection is an almost new pair of shoes that can be worn to a job interview.  Maybe perfection is being able to offer a veggie tray to a guest that doesn’t eat meat.  Maybe perfection is a smile and eye contact that shows respect and warmth.  Perfection is found most often in the little things.

We start every day with one pitch.  Each day seemingly as ordinary as the one before it.  But then something magical happens.  And I feel like I witness perfection every day.  Our staff.  Our volunteers.  Our guests.  We all back each other up.  We are connected in a way that is dramatic and rare.  The difference between baseball’s perfect game and ours is that we are full of second chances.  And when mistakes are made, our team does more than catch a deep fly ball or turn a crafty double play.  We make it better by putting the ball back in the hands of our guests.  We empower them and they inspire us to continue playing until the last out.

We know we are not superhuman.  But working together to do the little things well and the big things even better makes us hopeful.  We are reminded that not only is our community equipped with talent and skill and connectivity to conquer fear, uncertainty and failure – we are blessed with hearts full of passion.

Offense scores runs.  Defense wins games.  Passion drives perfection.  Matt Cain pitched a passionate 9 innings of perfection and his team passionately backed him up, giving The City joy overflowing.  With our hearts full of passion, St. Anthony’s aims to give the same to our guests.  Is it easy to be perfect?  No way!  Can we start each day with one pitch and give it a try?  Yes we Cain!

Play ball!

Celina Sutton is the Group Volunteer and Internship Program Coordinator and a huge San Franicsco sports fan.

On Thursday, July 12th, Dr. Veronica Rayburn greeted missionary monks after a free checkup in St. Anthony’s Medical Clinic.

On a journey of discovery, these monks have traveled from Thailand to immerse themselves in American culture and customs. According to their translator, they’re also curious to taste San Francisco’s take on something near and dear to their hearts: Thai food.

I’ve only been the manager of the Free Clothing Program (FCP) for a couple of months now, and since this is my first attempt at a blog, I figured there was no better way of relating what we do than to describe a typical day here, or my typical day here. And though it’s only been two months, I’m already smiling at the word ‘typical,’ because each new day seems to also bring a new definition to that word.

One day it might be helping Donovan who is recovering from surgery and who has been pushing himself along in his wheelchair with only socks on his feet; or Pastor Doris, who I met in Union Square and who eats in the Dining Room every day but hasn’t been to the Clothing Program in a number of years because she had a bad experience the last time she came, but who I was able to convince to come back, and now is a new regular; or Travis who has been wearing size 15 shoes on his size 16 feet, and even after we miraculously found him two pairs of shoes in his size, was still in tremendous pain due to the urgent need for surgery on his right foot, but, with the help of Susan at the Social Work Center, was able to procure emergency funds to at least get him a good pair of Timberlands that fit properly until he is able to have the surgery he so desperately needs; or David who always needs a blanket because people are always stealing his blanket.

So I suppose the only thing typical about a typical day is the exhilarating, heart-wrenching, jaw-dropping experience that each new one will bring.

However, ‘typical’ is the word I’ve chosen, so we’ll go with it (it’s my first blog after all). In a typical year, we provide free clothing and basic amenities to approximately 40,000 men, women and children. Along with our set schedules of men’s, family’s and women’s services, we also assist guests who have emergency needs, like Donovan, Travis and David. The need is great, but thanks to the tremendous efforts of the community through volunteering and donations, we are able to meet it as best we can.

Stay tuned for more updates from the FCP.

Allan Shapiro is the manager of St. Anthony’s Free Clothing Program.

Fr. Hans Van Bemmel in the Dining Room

Hans van Bemmel, OFM, is a jolly Franciscan from Holland. He came to San Francisco a year ago to improve his English and fell in love with our Dining Room volunteers and guests. He wrote a small booklet in Dutch using his pictures about his experiences at St Anthony’s, which he sells in his retreat house gift shop in Holland. In this way Hans has raised over $6,000 for us.  He is quite a salesman!

For his vacation this year, he couldn’t wait to get back to “Barbara, the volunteers and our wonderful guests!” Welcome back Hans!

St. Anthony’s Free Clothing Program (FCP) has been encouraging guests to come back again and again through an approach they call “beyond the basics.”  There is much more going on here than simply handing out clothes to those in need. Guests are provided with a warm and welcoming shopping experience that gives them the respect and dignity they deserve.

Trish, one of the staff members, describes the FCP as an outlet for individuals who are looking for someone who they can talk to; someone who will listen and care for them.  ”We are here to have conversations with the guests, but we communicate on a different level,” she explained. “We talk about how our day is going and try to make shopping here as warm and welcoming as possible.” Trish says that because of the respectful way they treat guests, the energy level is very mellow, laid back, and friendly. They go the distance to accommodate those who speak different languages, have disabilities, or simply need someone to talk to.

Leneina, a St. Anthony’s guest of 15 years, appreciates that the FCP gives her a sense of comfort and peace of mind.  The warm welcome she receives puts St. Anthony’s above other organizations. Leneina believes that “this clothing program helps [her] on more than just a physical level. [She feels] supported on a spiritual level because of the respect and fairness [she is] treated with.” All men, women, and children benefit from being able to get their fair chance to shop and acquire what they need, and no one is left out in the cold.  St. Anthony’s commitment to serving the community with dignity and respect blossoms here at the Free Clothing Program.