my dichotomy day

This morning, I took Owen to our baby sign language class. A class full of happy, healthy, well-cared for infants.

This afternoon, we called Catholic Social Services to find a family shelter to donate all the disposable diapers that Owen has outgrown but never got to use. When I called to ask if they needed them, the lady said, "Oh, we always need them. We go through them so fast."

So we drove across town to a very dismal, run-down apartment complex where the shelter rents a unit for their office (and units for homeless families, too). We got there and I hoisted Owen on my hip and balanced the huge box of the remnants of bags of Pampers and Huggies in various sizes on the other.

As the lady was filling out my donation slip, I spotted a wall full of drawings--children's drawings. It kills me to think of children and infants homeless. But they are.

All the way home I was torn between feeling good about what I had given and being horrified that it's not enough.