Asking Bruce Goodwin his favorite thing about work is like forcing most of us to choose our preferred portion of Thanksgiving dinner.
Turkey? Stuffing? Mashed potatoes? Pumpkin pie, anyone?
Goodwin’s choice is the cranberry sauce, or maybe gravy.
As volunteer coordinator and data entry clerk at the Good Shepherd Food-Bank in Auburn, Goodwin tracks dollars and surplus products that come in from giant corporations, like Hannaford, and mom-and-pop shops every day. It takes uncommon generosity on a large scale to feed an estimated 60,000 needy Mainers from Kittery to Madawaska.
But it’s the smaller contributions, often in wrinkled envelopes and the handwritten notes, that give him chills.
“One of the great parts of my job,” Goodwin said last week as he stood amid a sea of Chiquita banana boxes teeming with pasta, soup cans and juice boxes, “is opening up the letters and seeing $5 and $10 checks arrive from all over.”
Children’s gifts
Other times, his dose of perspective comes from someone named Jacob or Jessica who probably weighs less than a box full of imperishables.
Maybe that child just celebrated a birthday. In lieu of traditional presents, party invitations promised that half of any monetary gifts would go to the food bank.
“And we’ll get $7 in the mail,” Goodwin said. “It’s a real thrill.”
Charity is fashionable during the holiday season. At Good Shepherd, founded by a prayerful JoAnn Pike in 1981 and now redistributing 11 million pounds of food each year from its huge headquarters on Hotel Road, it never stops.
It beats in the heart of Jason Hall, a former cop. His new beat as agency liaison takes him on a tour of soup kitchens, food pantries and shelters in all of Maine’s 16 counties – more than 500 of them – each year.
It moves through the hands of Mark Bucher, a soft-spoken, bearded gentleman from Pennsylvania who once visited this part of the state with his wife on a volunteer mission. Seventeen years later, Bucher’s still here, now making his living sorting loaded pallets more than 30 feet high and organizing a freezer that can hold 15 truckloads of food.
It flows through the time, talent and treasure of volunteers who inspect and sort cans, stuff envelopes or sweep the floors of the tidy, three-year-old building.
JoAnn’s faith
“I’m part of a team,” said Bucher. “I do my little piece, what the Lord wants me to do.”
Pike, who’d been the only leader the team had known, died of cancer in March. Donations and food shipments lagged prior to the installment of Charles Large as the nonprofit’s new executive director.
Demand doesn’t wait for transition, though. Local folks still need to be fed daily through organizations such as Hope Haven Gospel Mission in Lewiston, the Rumford Group Home and the Wilton Area Food Pantry.
“Look at a place like Opportunity Farm,” Goodwin said of the youth home in New Gloucester. “They’re able to fulfill their mission more effectively because we’re providing paper products and laundry detergent. It makes quite an impact on the social fabric of the state.”
There’s a perennial need for donors and volunteers. Calculated at minimum wage, the organization uses $250,000 of volunteer labor each year.
Work is divided into three-hour shifts, Monday through Friday from 6 a.m. to 3 p.m., or 9 a.m. to noon on weekends.
You’re invited to call 782-3554, e-mail volunteer@gsfb.org or go to www.gsfb.org and join the effort.
“I started as a volunteer,” said Hall. “Now I can’t imagine working anywhere else.”
Pike’s religious convictions still fuel the work. Her first food drive began as the vision of a small Bible study.
She lived out stories from the four Gospels: miracles, such as five loaves of bread and two fish, multiplied to feed the masses; the parable of the widow’s mite, proven more precious in the offering plate than a rich man’s tithe.
“JoAnn talked about how much she loved the older ladies who would send a dollar every month,” Bucher said. “I think she would be pleased that the work goes on.”
Kalle Oakes is the Sun Journal’s columnist. His e-mail is koakes@sunjournal.com.
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