The Unwanted Ham

The Joy of Giving... or ...

The Unwanted Ham

It was the week before Christmas and I was shopping at the grocery store for last-minute meal preparation items. I was passing through the meat section when I noticed all of the colorful, beautifully foil-wrapped hams in the chiller. I didn't need a ham. I had purchased mine the month before and placed it in the freezer.

For some reason I thought about a Christmas long ago when we were very poor. I was working, but not making nearly enough money to support our little family. I had no idea what I would do about Christmas dinner and was considering writing a check at the grocery store that I knew would bounce. But at least then I wouldn't have to explain to my son why we didn't have a real Christmas dinner and presents.

A couple of people from a local charity knocked on our door and presented us with a box. I opened the box to find everything I would need to make a nice Christmas dinner, along with some presents. Now, I'm not used to jumping up and making squeaky happy noises like a three-year-old, but that's what I did!

I asked them who sent the gift box and why? They just said it was from a local food pantry and my name was on the list. "What list? How did I get on a list?" I said. They just said that someone put my information on the list, so there they were. Then there was crying and hugs. I don't think I've ever been as grateful and humbled as I was that day.

Now, as I'm standing in the grocery store looking at all the bountiful things people could have if they had the money to pay for them, I thought, "I'm going to buy a nice, big ham and donate it so that someone else in need can have a good holiday". And that's what I did.

All during that next week, I tried to find a food pantry to give that ham to. Conversations went like this: "Hello, I'd like to donate a ham to your food pantry."

"Oh, you missed our donation day. Call back next week."

"Hello, I'd like to donate a ham to your food pantry."

"Oh, we don't accept perishables."

"Hello, I'd like to donate a ham to your food pantry."

"Oh, today was our collection day, but you missed the time."

Undeterred, I even put the ham in my car on the way to my social worker's office. Surely she would know of a place I could take the ham to donate. She said she wasn't sure, but she thought there was one in another suburb not far away.

Arriving home again with my poor, unwanted ham, I knew I had to do something, but what?

At around 11p.m., the night before Christmas Eve, I suddenly decided that I would take it someplace that I was pretty sure would not turn it down if I just left it there for them. I searched in the basement, found a foam cooler, cushioned it with food-safe packaging material (I save everything), placed the ham in the cooler and placed two dry-ice packets I had saved on top of the ham. I taped the cooler closed with a note on it asking that it be given to someone in need.

I waited until well after midnight and made a stealth run to a local Unitarian church not far from my home. I turned off the lights so my car wouldn't attract any attention. Then I quickly carried the cooler to the front door of the church and left it there like some kind of orphan.

The next day I was worried about whether those two packets had kept the ham cold, since I had no idea when someone would arrive at the church, so I called. Nervously, I said, "Hi, umm, I left a ham in front of the church. Did you get it?" The guy who I was speaking to sounded absolutely delighted.

"Oh, so it was you?" he said. "Yes, we got it. It was a wonderful surprise."

I said, "I was just wondering if it was still cold and usable."

"Oh yes, it's still nice and cold in the kitchen."

I said, "Well, I'm sure you can find someone who can use it, right?"

"Oh yes, we'll be giving it away tonight. Do you want to come get your packaging?"

"No, no, no", I said. "I just wanted someone to have it who needed it."

Thanks were exchanged.

That communication made my entire day. It felt so good to have finally found a place where I could give something that was needed by someone. I can't even fully describe it. Additionally, it felt good to "pay it forward," if you know what I mean. I've spent years donating directly from my salary every payday, thinking nothing of it. Now that I'm unemployed and have to give on a more personal level, I can see how much those donations mean to people.

I'm even thinking of maybe checking out the church services there, since I've been untethered to any specific form or worship for quite some time.