Here’s How To Fill 350 Shoeboxes With Love
I’ll never look at an empty shoebox the same way again.
I met my friend Elizabeth in San Francisco on Election Day, 2002. I was a brand new mom, still figuring out how to get my three-month-old and myself out of the house each day, along with his stroller and a backpack filled with everything a baby could possibly need. That particular morning, my own mom was with me, and we strollered on over to my local polling station so I could cast my vote.
I left my son with my mother while I filled out my ballot. When I returned a few minutes later, Mom was chatting with two women, each with their own baby-boy-filled stroller. I can’t tell you exactly what we talked about during that first conversation, but at the end of it, we all exchanged phone numbers. The next day, I met up with these two moms at the playground. We laughed, shared snacks and exchanged stories of sleep deprivation and explosive poop.
Just like that, I made my very first Mommy Friends.
Over the years, I’ve discovered Elizabeth gets more things done before she leaves for work in the morning than most of us (well, me, anyway) achieve in the bulk of a week. Among many things, Elizabeth is a painter. Like many artists, she works full-time and paints on the side. For Elizabeth, “on the side” means getting up at dawn to paint before her day job starts. It means teaching evening watercolor classes through a community education program, leading weekend painting workshops and volunteering at her local art and garden center. It means turning her own front porch into a dynamic art space with an ever-changing display of banners, posters and other original creations, all in tune with a season, a holiday or a political or cultural event.
Elizabeth is an organizer and a problem-solver. For four years in a row, she’s run a summer art show so local artists and artisans can showcase and sell their work while enjoying a sense of community that’s often hard to find in a lonely studio. When her skateboarding son had no good place to practice his alley-oops and flip-tricks, Elizabeth took note. Now her hometown has a skate park that gives skate rats a rad place for wall-rides and tail-grabs.
Why am I’m telling you this? Well, in addition to everything else, for the last eight years, Elizabeth has channeled her creativity, passion, organizing skills and her problem-solving super powers to a very local cause. It’s called the Secret Santa Shoebox Community Project. In 2008, Elizabeth and some fellow Cub Scout moms gathered in her living room. Using items they’d bought or had been donated, they filled 40 shoeboxes with goodies a child would enjoy. These boxes were distributed to kids by a neighborhood charity.
Since then, the shoebox project has steadily expanded. Elizabeth’s ever-growing team of volunteers fills boxes for homeless vets and seniors, for parents of struggling families and, of course, for kids. This year, the shoebox crew aims to fill and wrap 350 boxes. High schoolers, elementary-school kids, a Girl Scout troop, a band of merry knitters and countless local families will all be on hand to help.
My friend Elizabeth grew up in tough circumstances. She knows what it’s like to go without. She also knows what it’s like to be on the receiving end of a stranger’s generosity. I imagine that helps explain why she stands up, in countless ways, for people who can’t always stand up for themselves — or, sometimes, can’t even stand by themselves. Being Elizabeth’s friend reminds me, again and again, that what we do and how we give — whether it’s our time, our dollars or our abiding commitment — really does matter.
My friend Elizabeth is a Southern gal who loves to laugh, swear and joyfully sweat it out on Sunday mornings in an African dance class. She’s making a real, significant difference in people’s lives, one simple shoebox at a time.
Willow Older is a nationally and internationally published writer and a professional editor. She lives in Northern California where she runs her own editorial services business and publishes a weekly newsletter called Newsy!.
