When my firstborn grandson turned 18, he decided to live outside, creating beautiful meditation camps high above big River in Mendocino. He is a beautiful soul, Wise beyond his years, kind, generous, compassionate, fun. Last summer when he was 21, while riding his skateboard, he was hit and killed by a hit-and-run driver. While I was on the coast for his funeral, his unSheltered friends reverently escorted me to one of his camps. After our visit, we were crossing the highway where he was killed. a car stopped us, A bedraggled group of perhaps 11. The people rolled down the window of the car. They handed us takeout boxes of hot gourmet Mendocino food… Quiche, bagels, quesadillas, scones! Receiving it with gratitude, we stood together on the side of the street,sharing it with one another, eating with our hands passing it back-and-forth ( pre-Covid) it was true communion. Before his death I had been somewhat uncomfortable hanging out with his homeless friends, probably concerned what othe
Volunteer Community - The People Behind The Scenes - Making It All Happen