By Marcy Frost, Interim Director of the Dignity Center

I woke up feeling lucky today. In fact, I wake up feeling lucky three days a week: Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.

Those are the days that I have the privilege of going to work at The Dignity Center.

Never before have I had a job that I actually woke up wanting to do. Now, I know that I am going to spend my time with dedicated volunteers, supportive church staff, and a diverse, delightful group of guests. I know that no matter how chaotic or heart-wrenching the day will be, I will make a difference to someone.

Sometimes this means that one of the advocates will ask me to help a guest with a difficult challenge, and I am able to provide the guest with concrete assistance or a list of other resources. Sometimes it means that a guest needs to vent about something going on in the guest’s life, and I can be that friendly listener that offers comfort or a glimpse of a path forward. Sometimes it means simply that I get to joke around with someone who leaves with a smile.

Our hospitality volunteers keep the kitchen running so smoothly that I never have to worry if the guests have coffee available, are provided a sack lunch, or can get hygiene items simply by asking. I know that the guests are in a safe, clean environment where they are treated respectfully, something they do not get everywhere they go.

I know the advocates are devoted to helping our guests forge their own way to stability. The advocates understand the philosophy that the Dignity Center offers a “hand up” rather than a “hand out,” and ensure that the guests understand their own responsibilities as participants in our program. I trust that the guests are getting the guidance and assistance they need, regardless of which advocate they see and whether I am directly involved or not. The peace of mind of knowing that I can rely on the advocates allows me the opportunity to attend to the more complicated situations and do the administrative work that supports everything else we do.

I am awed by the strength and resiliency that our guests demonstrate every day. Just getting to the Dignity Center can mean overcoming a host of barriers, such as safely stowing belongings, battling the Minnesota winter or summer weather with inadequate attire, overcoming mental health issues that make seeing a reason to get up and go anywhere difficult, dealing with the needs of dependent family members and friends, and navigating and financing public transportation. Yet once they get here, our guests greet us with a smile, show appreciation for our efforts, and respect our decisions that sometimes mean they have to continue their search for appropriate resources.

Working at the Dignity Center reminds me daily of the razor-thin divide between stability and chaos, and how blessed I am to fall on the healthy, happy side of that divide.

Recently added to my list of blessings is the ability to go to work smiling and leave smiling, day after day.