Small Wonders:

It’s raining as I write this. Finally. Rain.

Come to wash away the dust of summer and autumn, the echoes of dry days past.

I am warm and comfortable inside my house; no fireplace but a small heater blasting hot air under my chair. A cup of coffee, flannel shirt and Vivaldi. Listen to “The Four Seasons” while the sky unleashes its bounty and you’ll soon understand something that can’t be put into words; something that artists and musicians discover in the void between themselves and their creator.

All this reminds me of the other day when I saw God sitting on a public bench.

I was riding my bike along the bike path and there he was. But he was a she. And though I’ve no proof, I’m sure she has no real home. At least not one with walls and a roof. I’ve seen her several times.

She carries her belongings neatly strapped to a hand cart. Scraps of clothes, jar of cookies, feather boa and a boom box.

No matter the weather she wears a heavy coat with a furry hood, keeping out the elements, prying eyes and perhaps unwanted voices.

She’s dirty. I’m sure her personal odor is strong, the fragrance of suffering human: equal parts sweat, urine and time. Her appearance is Christ-like in its humility.

Among her few possessions is a set of tattered and damaged stuffed animals. Wounded beings cast off when they served no further purpose to their masters.

She sets them on the bench, neat and orderly. They are attentive as she watches over them wordlessly. A teddy bear, a poodle, a tabby and sweet Piglet. They are her charge, and she cares for them with a soft hand and firm love.

When her eyes are not fixed upon her disciples they lift upward, longing for something the rest of us can’t see.

Perhaps she got herself hooked on drugs. Had several babies out of wedlock and ill-prepared. Failed out of college because she was too lazy to study. Got herself fired for incompetence, laid off because of the recession. Perhaps she made too many selfish and irresponsible decisions in her youth.

In short, she’s probably guilty of falling victim to her own frailties, weaknesses and stupidities.

Just like you, just like me.

Does any of this mean she’s not deserving of help?

Barbara Howell doesn’t think so.

“We have a responsibility to help people in need,” she told me.

Howell is the executive director of the Burbank Temporary Aid Center, www.thebtac.org, where they are dedicated to providing the poor, working poor and homeless of the community with the basic services they need to live with dignity.

BTAC provides that help with groceries from their pantry, utility assistance, transportation assistance, emergency shelter (off-site and short-term), medical assistance, senior food distribution and holiday gift-giving outreach through their “Santa’s Room” program for needy children.

The homeless can get a sack lunch every day, get mail delivery, do their laundry and even shower on site. In fact, the next time you spend the night at a hotel, bring BTAC the soap, shampoo and conditioner from the hotel bathroom. Their showers are stocked with such accouterments, whether Motel 6 or Ritz Carlton.

This year BTAC finds itself doing more for the working poor and recently laid off.

“We’ve had some of our [past] donors come for help now,” Howell told me. Her advice: “Come to us sooner rather than later. We can’t help you with your mortgage or rent. But we can put food on your table; we can help with your utility bills. Then you put that money to your mortgage or rent and you stay in a home.”

At BTAC, Howell sees the opposite extremes of the dire need and the overwhelming generosity of the people of Burbank.

“One day I pulled up and actually began weeping because there was so much that had come in,” she said.

Beginning in November they were flooded with donations of food items. But, though their racks are full today, it won’t last long, and it’s never enough.

“We can always use food,” she told me.

They’ll gladly take your donated food, but when donating food, remember one basic rule of thumb: Give something your family would eat. I understood this point when I saw a lonely can of iguana soup on a dusty shelf.

Volunteers to help sort through the donations are warmly welcomed. And of course, money. During bad economic times, charities suffer greatly.

“We are completely out of emergency shelter funds, because we went through them in the first quarter of our fiscal year,” Howell said.

So don’t feel guilty for simply writing a check when handing over a bag of groceries would make the giving feel more tangible. BTAC knows how to make dollars work.

And if you haven’t got a haypenny, then God bless you. But you can give a homeless person something, according to Howell.

“Look them in the eye and acknowledge them. They already know they are the pariah of the community. [They] didn’t wake up one morning and decide to be homeless and drain the community. Some are just beat down. Just beaten down. And sometimes a kind word means more than the money.”

Wounded, cast-off beings.

Times are tough. But chances are, if you’re reading this in the comfort of your house, you have more than many others this season. In church we’re taught that we should “do unto the least of these.” In other words, how we treat the hungry, foreign, needy and sick, is how we treat God himself. But even if church isn’t your place, you get the idea.

Get in touch PATRICK CANEDAY is a freelance writer and Glendale native who lives and works in Burbank. He may be reached at patrickcaneday@gmail.com.