Marion Chronicle Tribune

I couldn’t comprehend what had just transpired nine floors beneath my San Francisco Hyatt window—the large plaza was covered with snow. The noise of hundreds of people awoke me from my jetlag recovery, and on wobbly legs and through blurry eyes my mind tried to catch up with the temperature disconnect—tons of snow in sunny Cisco. Then I began to recognize push brooms instead of snow shovels, and pillows instead of snowmen. It was Valentine’s Day and I had just missed a massive pillow fight.

Later the hotel staff told me that it’s a tradition. Every year people go take their dating frustrations out on total strangers, slugging out their emotions and bad luck. My waitress added, “And I could have and should’ve been out there with a huge pillow, no, two of them!”

Traditions seem to take on different meanings to different people. From what I can gather, regardless of its origins, it seems to be part of an international pillow day movement to collect bedding, clothes and funds for the needy. It’s clever, fun, and harmless if you follow the rules, such as, don’t hit anyone without a pillow, swing only empty pillows, and don’t hit anyone with a camera or projector.

Creativity is certainly needed as we forge ahead in tough times. We need to keep in mind that a good idea is a job half done—and some people can generate answers to important questions and other the means and processes to realize them.

Around midnight I walked through the plaza and around Ferry House across the street to sit and enjoy the Bay Bridge in all its lighted glory. The harbor was stunning, shimmering in a mile of lights. As I returned to the hotel I walked through the far side of the plaza. Where hours earlier people had their emotional slugfest, now slept homeless adults. Ironically, I didn’t see a single pillow. Wadded coats. A soiled knitted scarf. Hands together atop a trash bag. Nothing but paper.

We scratch our heads as tons of pillows are sent elsewhere while those sleeping on cardboard beneath us, literally, go unnoticed. Most communities have wakeup calls—while some get them in posh rooms and others as the sun rises over the clock tower of the Ferry House.

(for media coverage of the pillow fight: http://laughingsquid.com/3rd-annual-pillow-fight-in-san-franicsco-on-valentines-day/)

Do you see yourself as the creative or logistical part of the solution? Do you see the disconnect in your community?

I am from San Francisco and have been aware of this annual event, but have never taken part in it myself. Several of my friends were involved in this years pillow fight and they called me to tell me how much fun it was. They said while riding BART (the subway) they saw everyone concealing pillows under jackets or in backpacks. I think the paradox of flippantly using pillows for fun while hundreds of homeless sleep on cardboard is well taken as we often neglect the needs of others, instead focusing on ourselves. I think I am more on the side of the creative as I dabble in the realm of ideas but often fail to see them followed through. Vibrant communities need both halves of the equation in order to achieve success in alleviating societal ills.

I live in a small town, where the problem of homelessnss is not as apparent as it is in a big city. However, unfortunate souls are still very much present. I donate my used clothes to the rescue mission. At Christmas time, I give my spare change to the Salvation Army. However, these things require little personal sacrifice or inconvenience.
At a gas station near my house, there is a often a Vietnam veteran who sits outside and tries to bum cigarettes from passersby. I don't know if this man even has a place to live. Most people, including me, ignore him for fear that they will be harrassed for more money, or perhaps that he might latch onto them out of loneliness, finally having someone to talk to. It would be no trouble for me to buy this man a pack of cigarettes. If he struck up a conversation with me, then it might give me an opportunity to talk to him about Christ. Good Wesleyans may balk at the thought of contributing to someone's nicotine addiction, but that could be the thing that leads that man to the Lord. If I were really Christlike, I would buy that man a meal, and perhaps even invite him into my home. Many people would avoid that with the excuse that to do so would be potentially dangerous in today's world. They may have a point, but the truth is that the fear of danger is not what prevents us from doing such things, but rather the fear of being in an uncomfortable situation. The problem of homelessness, and the reality that it exists among us, represents a difficult challenge for me and other believers to be more like Christ. I freely admit that I have often failed in that regard. I pray that I will do better in the future.

The city I'm from isn't an extremley large city, but it has its "good" parts and "bad parts". There are definitely areas where, while there might not be many people without homes, there are people struggling to make a living. Looking back on my life, I regret being apathetic to these situations. Dumping some change in salvation army buckets from time to time is the most I really contributed to the needy. I really wish I made a larger contribution to causes such as this. So, at this point, while I see the disconnect in my community, I cannot say I am a creative or logistical part of the solution

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