Peanut Butter Plan

When I was a kid all I would eat were peanut butter sandwiches. I hated jelly or jam or whatever you want to call the fruity substance that many like to combine with their peanut butter. I ate peanut butter sandwiches every day for years.

This is why, when I found out about the Peanut Butter Plan, I thought it was an amazing idea. Meet as a group once a month, make loads of PB&J sandwiches, and then give them out to people in need.

The only problem with this plan is that I, despite what others think, get nervous talking to those I've never spoken to before. The myers briggs tests and I agree that I am an extrovert, but that doesn't mean that I feel comfortable going up to someone and starting a conversation with them then and there. I didn't know what to do with myself when I found out that after building the sandwiches in a group, I'd have to go out and give them out by myself. I didn't know what to say. Would people be offended that I was assuming they needed a meal? Would they think I was trying to convert them to some cause? The worst part was that I knew how important it was that I give out these sandwiches. I knew the pain that their stomaches would feel if I didn't. I knew how much I would hate myself if I didn't build up the courage to give them out.

So, I didn't give them out directly after making them. It was 9pm on an October night in San Francisco and it was dark. I wouldn't feel safe. I didn't bike to work the next day, so I couldn't pass them out at the Panhandle like I'd planned. My lunch ended up being later than I expected and I had errands to do, so I didn't do it then either. My day had been hard and long and my stomach felt sour at the thought that I hadn't yet taken the time to give away the sandwiches. I felt guilty and worried that I wouldn't be able to do it. I would feel preachy (though I wouldn't be preaching) and I'd feel intrusive.

After work I was supposed to meet a friend to drive her to Oakland. It was her birthday and she was one of those people that I sometimes wished I could be like; she would go up to anyone. She had planned on going to the Peanut Butter Plan with me the night before but then had to back out and didn't seem to mind when I said I needed to pass the sandwiches out. She made the first step, gave a man a sandwich, and as she walked away from him he called to her, "Miss? Miss? Do you mind if I take another sandwich? I want to leave one for my friend. This is his shopping cart. I want to leave one for him." So I handed him a sandwich.

I'm not going to say that it was easy to go up to people and ask them if they wanted a sandwich, but I did. I eventually handed them all out and the moment I remember most was a man sitting on the sidewalk who said. "You two girls are beautiful like the sun and the moon. I can see them coming out of you from right here," and he touched his chest, "Right here. I don't know who you are but I can see you shinning." All the sourness left my stomach and all the bad things left the day and I smiled at him and I walked away.

Location: San Francisco, CA, U.S.A.