To the editor:
I have a spiral notebook where I jot down the number of people that come to Yachats Community Presbyterian Church for some form of assistance.
It’s not a fancy system — just the first name or initials, a few words to remind me why there were here or what was provided — and a date. It’s pretty informal. Pastor Bob Barrett and I check in each day and I try to capture the folks that he has seen as well as my own list — and pencil it into my notebook.
I know we probably miss a few people — especially those folks who seek help after regular office hours. This is the nature of a small church — it does not resemble the efficiency of a Swiss clock. We do what we can, when we can, as best as we can.
But a lot gets done and our numbers are not insignificant. From January through Aug. 31, my tally indicates that we have served approximately 83 (unduplicated) individuals through 294 points of contact — meaning, the number of times we engaged with and provided support to someone.
These numbers do not include businesses, city representatives or other organizations which have also reached out to YCPC for a variety of reasons.
You might ask “Okay, but what are you actually doing?” It may be assistance in the form of bus or gas voucher to get to an appointment in Newport, a little help finding resources and connecting to services outside of Yachats, getting medical benefits turned one, helping someone to fill out energy assistance application forms, assisting an isolated senior without running water to repair their plumbing, finding information for a free cell phone, contacting legal assistance for a resident facing foreclosure, figuring out a temporary place for someone to safely lay down their head for a night, delivering some food to a housebound individual, helping an unhoused young couple with a child get to relatives in another state, finding someone to fix a busker’s guitar because playing the guitar is the only thing he has and it means the world to him. And let’s not forget the dog which was cold and needed a sweatshirt repurposed as a dog-jacket — because dogs matter too.
All of the above might seem like a crazy laundry list of tasks that may or may not have long-term impact. But it means something for many of the individuals who are simply so overwhelmed trying to survive.
There are also those individuals who, for many reasons, have few people to turn to in moments of personal crisis. So they come into the office, sit down on the orange vinyl chair that looks like it’s been here since 1968. As soon as we ask “What’s going on?” they will answer softly — often as their head falls into their hands — and all one can do is close the door gently for privacy, and sit quietly together in the presence of sorrow, loss, unrelenting shame and suffering.
Perhaps this is the most challenging part of community service — simply bearing witness to the pain that people carry with them. Yet it is, perhaps the most important “service” we provide — just being present for someone who desperately needs to be seen and heard. In the face of so many life issues, it may not sound like much, but we have been told by many people that it makes a meaningful difference.
Our resources and manpower have their limits of course and that makes it hard at times. However, we are very fortunate in many respects too. We have a fantastic food pantry staffed by compassionate, committed people providing about 200 meals a week. We have been able to connect to some nonprofit agencies which give us guidance and take referrals, and we have a case manager for veterans and their families here once a month.
But our greatest asset by far is the spirit of community that gives YCPC its superpower. The congregants, the friends, the volunteers, the business owners, local citizens and even visitors make all the things we do and all the assistance possible. Yeah, maybe we are a little church, in a little town, but if anyone asks “How does YCPC do what it does?” You can answer in three words: Small but mighty.
— Barbara Loza-Muriera, Yachats Community Presbyterian Church