Dylan Robin - A PERC Volunteer
In His Own Words

To be quite honest, when four o’clock approached a few weeks ago, I wasn’t entirely looking forward to the trip to PERC in Union City, NJ.  I was tired, I had unfinished homework, and taking a trip to help out the homeless wasn’t really on my list of priorities.  However, as our carpools (filled with 7th through 10th grade Temple Beth Rishon Young Judaea students) finally reached the shelter after a 40 minute drive, something changed. 

First and foremost, it was the hospitality of the shelter.  We were welcomed by a caring man who was quick to show us the ins and outs of the shelter.  He told us about certain rules, policies, and miscellaneous happenings of the shelter.  Perhaps the most striking aspect of the PERC shelter was its cleanliness.  In an environment that I had imagined to be somewhat dirty and unkempt, there was instead a spotless room with some 45 beds.  No messy clothes, unmade beds, dirt on the floor; spotlessness was not only a desire for those who ran the shelter, it was a necessity. 

As our expansive tour of the shelter concluded, we were brought to the dining hall, where we began to prepare peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for the clients of the shelter to be eaten the next day.  All the while, there was something I could not stop thinking about.  The shelter, as I had inquired about, was completely free of charge.  In fact, there were only a few key things that those less fortunate to have a home would have to agree to in order to reside in the shelter.  These conformities, while hardly any, were an oath to sobriety at all times while living in the shelter, following all of the shelter’s rules, and last but not least, a concrete effort to better your life through means such as finding a job.  To me, these qualifications truly didn’t seem very difficult to live by.  Still, I was shocked to think that so many people choose not to live in such a well kept place as the PERC shelter, and instead, chose to live a life on the streets with absolute no roof above their heads. 

Upon completing some six or seven peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, I was asked to head into the kitchen of the soup kitchen where I would be showed what we were serving to the homeless and how we would serve it.  The people were expected to arrive in only minutes, and as I found out, that Sunday night was a special night.  Indeed, contrary to what I had first believed, anybody is entitled to a meal at PERC, client of the shelter or not.  With this in mind, I expected the dining hall to be an all-out riot, although sadly, I would soon find I was wrong.  Alongside a few of my YJ friends I began to prepare plates filled with meatballs, pasta, and peas.  As the first people began to walk through the door and into the dining hall, I realized that these kind and gracious people were not so different from many other Bergen county adults.  Yes, some of them looked more healthy or better-off than others, but the more plates I prepared and the more people that entered the shelter helped me to rediscover that we are all human beings.  We all have the same basic human needs and at one point or another we all have the same human struggles. 

In the end, our time at the PERC shelter was some of the quickest two hours of my life.  I found myself wanting to stay longer and feed more people, for we fed no more than 50.  As the peoples’ meals wrapped up, a few people stayed and helped clean up (clients of the shelter), while even more walked right back out of the door and into near freezing weather.  While the idea puzzled me at the time, it soon became apparent that those people who chose to go back into the cold weren’t quite ready to accept the challenge of getting their lives back on track just yet.  Still, I have hope that their time will one day come. 

In summary, the trip to the shelter brought me joy beyond what words will ever be able to express.  I look forward to revisiting PERC in the near future; not just with Young Judaea, but perhaps on my own.