I Can Do It

I was a volunteer with St. Vincent de Paul in Phoenix, Arizona, for several years before recently moving. They are a charitable organization located in Phoenix and throughout the United States and other parts of the world. St. Vincent de Paul provides food, financial assistance, and other forms of help to those in need.

One Saturday morning in late July, I, along with another volunteer, were delivering food boxes to several families in need. One of our visits was at home in an older and very poor Phoenix neighborhood. When we pulled into the driveway and parked. I just sat there for a moment and looked at the house. I could not help but feel terrible for the family. The yard was nothing but dirt. The paint on the outside was so badly faded from the bright Arizona sun you could not tell what color it had been. The stucco exterior was severely cracked and in need of repairs. The temperature that morning was already over ninety degrees. I could see all the front windows and front door were open. I could not help but think of the family inside. I knew seven people were living in the home.

My friend and I grabbed two large boxes, each filled with food, and carried them to the front porch. We were able to set them down on a table near the front door. I knocked on the screen door and could see a young boy about ten years old coming to answer my knock. I told him we were with St. Vincent de Paul, and we had food for his family. I told him, “I am Richard, and this is Rene. He said, “I am Hector.” He came outside, and I lifted up one box and said I would carry it in for him. He looked at me, “I can do it, sir.” Both boxes weighed almost fifty pounds. I told the young boy they were way too heavy for him. Hector insisted he would carry them in. I was very worried that he would hurt himself. So, I asked if there was anyone else that could carry them? He said, “My father is out looking for work. It is just my mother, and she is making breakfast and watching my little brothers.” I asked him once more, “Please let me carry them in for you.” He insisted he was strong enough, so I handed him one box.

He struggled to hold it, but I could see in his face a determination that he could do it. I opened the screen door for him. Helplessly watching as this little boy struggled over twenty feet to their kitchen table. He set it down and came back for the second box. I said, “Hector, this box is a little heavier.” Just like the first box, he was insistent that he could do it. I handed it over to him and thought for sure he was going to drop it. I opened the screen door and, like the first one, watched him fight just to hold onto the box as he made his way to the table. He made it. When he came back to the door. I told him, “Hector, Rene, and I are so proud of you. Your mother and father are lucky to have such a good strong young man as their son.” We wished him and his family well and started walking back to our truck.

Just as I opened the door to our truck. I heard Hector’s voice screaming, “Don’t go, don’t go.” I turned around and could see Hector running towards me with something in his hand. When he reached me. Hector handed me a small cross he had made out of a pink and yellow pipe cleaner. Hector smiled and said, “May God bless you.” My smile had to be a mile wide, “My God bless you too.” I got into the truck and watched as he went back inside his house. Rene asked me what he gave me. I showed her the cross and told her, “I will cherish this forever.”

After that Saturday, we never returned to his home. I would like to believe that God blessed them, and his father found work. I keep that pipe cleaner cross on my shelf in my study to remind me of that young boy and just how blessed I was to have met such a fine young man.