The Shelter

D2 has a very close friend, Ben, who has been like a brother to her since Middle School. Ben's a big teddy bear of a young man --sweet, gentle, but with an inner strength. He's also like Radar O'Reilly in "MASH" --he's the guy who figures stuff out far ahead of everyone else. By the time D2 got to UF, Ben already knew where to go and how to get stuff done. D2 says he's the reason she survived her Fall semester.

Ben's Mom, Julie, is a Miami native. She and I were at UM at the same time, but never met. Julie and her husband Steve, a high up in the Democratic Party, have 3 sons. Ben's the oldest.

When Ben was young, Julie became fed up with the whole "gimme gimme" scene of the Holiday season. "She said we were spoiled," Ben told me sheepishly. So Julie organized a Holiday toy drive. She called a bunch of fellow Pincecrest spoiling parents, collected toys, and took them to a Homestead homeless shelter. This year, Wifey and I went along.

About 12 families met at Julie and Steve's house, and caravanned to Homestead. We entered the shelter, a big campus, which houses families and tries to get them back on their feet. The Dads like me sat in the back of a classroom, while the Moms set about organinzing and setting up the toys.

Our friend Loni, a 25 year teacher, sprang into action -- toys were displayed according to age, and books were put out. D2 and her friends laughed, since one of the books donated was "The Scarlett Letter" and Loni had assigned it, and the copy donated came from a classmate and had clearly never been cracked open.

D2 and her high school friends Amanda and Spencer and Ben laughed and caught up. I met Ben's grandmother, and we started playing S Florida Jewish Geography. It turns out she's old, close friends with Dr. Eric's mother in law Barbra. They met in the 3rd grade on Miami Beach!

The doors opened, and the kids came in, mostly with their mothers , and a few with their fathers. Julie's volunteers carried the kids around, and gave them all toys. The kids were delighted.

There was laughter. Spencer handed a doll to an adorable toddler, with corn rows. "No --he's my son" corrected the mother. "Well, it's a boy doll" said Spencer, trying for a quick recovery.

The toys disappeared quickly. The residents left for their rooms, happy children in tow.

Julie invited us all back to her house for pizza and pasta.

Wifey, D2 and I drove to Publix, and picked up a Billy Joel wine gift (bottle of red; bottle of white). We talked and reflected. Why did we live in an oversized house, with more than we ever dreamed of, and 13 miles away there were dads and moms, who clearly loved their kids like we do, with nothing.

As I've been teaching my girls their whole lives: life's not fair.

We got to Julie and Steve's, and the scene was joyous. Everyone ate, and Steve and I watched the Pats/Packers game, while lamenting the pathetic Dolphins. We were both at the earlier loss to the Bills, and still had the stink of that game on our clothes...

Ben, Josh, and Ethan each had a group of friends over, and the kids laughed loudly and clearly revelled in each other's company.

When we left, Wifey noted how Julie and Steve had such a welcoming, comfortable house. No one cared about spilled food or wine --it was all about the bonhommie of the folks gathered there.

Julie sent everyone home with leftover pizza and ziti and lasagna.

D2 and Ben and Amanda and Spencer and Rebecca continued their reunion, with tales of UF and FSU and UM and USC.

Julie and Steve made each of them feel like they had another home --always.

As I age, I'm getting less social and more curmudgeonly, as Wifey notices. But folks with hearts like Julie's can still get me out of the house on a Sunday night.