Delivering a dream

The elderly man limped with his cane with great effort to the opening of the narrow alleyway. He smiled, revealing the few crooked teeth he had, and waved us goodbye. I waved back and smiled. He said something in Taiwanese (or so it seemed), but his speech was slurred so I couldn't quite catch what he said. Even so, his gratitude needed no words. One bento box safely delivered, and many more to go...

Together with mum and a social worker, we shadowed a food delivery van for a good hour and a half around the eastern city of Hualien. Down narrow, windy lanes we navigated, into little communities of war veterans and aboriginals we ventured. Dogs sunbathing in the middle of the road and wandering stray cats lazily got out of the as we drove through isolated villages and run-down boroughs with slum-like and tiny housing units made of crumbling cement and brick.

The van in front of us would suddenly stop on the side, and the delivery lady would reach for the back of the van. There, stacks of bento boxes and bowls of soup are kept warm at a temperature of around 70C.  The warmth of the food satisfies many hungry stomachs, and also warms the hearts of many elderly people who live by themselves and rarely have contact with the outside.

Every day, for lunch and dinner, over five hundred meals are delivered into the homes of elderly people in the region. Each bento box is special prepared to cater to specific needs. Some are vegetarian, others are made with special dietary requirements suitable for those with a variety of chronic illnesses, ranging from diabetes to cancer. Some simply have difficulty chewing or swallowing, so the food is blended or in liquid form. But each is meticulously prepared at a central kitchen and supervised by nutritionists.

Began over a decade ago, the "meal delivery service" of the Mennonite Christian Foundation targets hundreds of elderly people who live by themselves. For most, the children have moved away to other places for employment and their other half have already passed away. Many have financial difficulties, while others have physical impairments that prevent them from having a balanced and healthy diet. The programme not only aims to improve the diet of this often neglected segment of society, it also functions as a sort of "buddy" programme so that everyday (except Sundays, as the workers are Christians and don't work on Sabbath...) the elderly will have some kind of human contact and also have someone to regularly keep an eye on their well being.

The "meal delivery service" is partly subsidised by the government, but much of the funding comes from the generosity of the public, from people like my mum who would like to give what they can to help. "My husband is already gone, my children are away. I'm like a solitary elderly person," mum joked and explained to the social worker why their work appeals to her so.

Charity begins at home, as they say, and this kind really goes into the homes of the elderly and those in need to ensure that, whatever hardships they are facing, at the very least they do not have to worry about filling their stomachs. And for my mum, finally seeing and experiencing first hand what it is that the charity does, and how her little donations help contribute to making this world a better and warmer place, I can only imagine, brings her much joy and comfort. And it brings me much joy and satisfaction to know I have helped her achieve the wish of seeing one of her charities at work before she goes...

I peered into the doors of the homes of those we delivered food to.  I only managed to see the faces of one or two beneficiaries of the programme, but behind every closed door, behind every cracked window of a run-down home, is a person, though old and aging, who needs as much support and care as everyone else, and who needs to be reminded that they have not been forgotten. As we ended our tour, my mum reminded me: "When you have the means, don't  forget those less fortunate than you and those in need..."

 I will always remember that, and try to live up to mum's example. Always, for as long as I live, even long after she is gone...