I consider myself a "functional" hoarder. Raising 4 kids on a tight budget, I got into the habit of just tucking things away instead of getting rid of them "just in case" I ever need them again. The garage was so crammed full that I hadn't been able to actually park a car inside it in years. The rafters in the house were starting to bow under the weight of everything up in the attic, and every closet in the house was stuffed to the hilt! My sister was in the same situation. Over the years we had accumulated enough things between us to easily open our own thrift store. But I'm getting ahead of the story....

Last winter my washing machine died, so I gathered the laundry and trekked into the laundromat in town. It was getting late, and when the attendant arrived to close everything up for the night, he let me stay and finish my last load as he went about his duties. I heard him talking to someone as he stepped out of the restroom, following a grandfather aged homeless man (who had apparently been asleep in there) up to the front and ousting him from the building. A while later as I finished up and started loading my laundry into my car, I noticed that the homeless man had taken refuge just around the corner in a small space where he was semi protected from the elements. As I placed the last basket in my back seat, I looked down at the neatly folded blanket in it, still warm from the dryer, and I couldn't help but walk over to where he was huddled. His eyes were closed as if he were asleep, but as I got closer I caught a quick glimpse of him peeking out of one eye, and I could see him shaking from the cold. (I remember he only had one shoe.) Without a word, I unfolded the heavy blanket, laid it over him, and walked back to my car. As I drove away I saw him sit up a bit, pulling the blanket in close around him as he watched me go.
Now, this scenario wasn't anything new to me. I was raised in downtown Los Angeles where the homeless population is staggering. But something about this poor old man simply struck me, and hard. I believe it was his resemblance to my father, who had passed away the year before. I am by absolutely NO MEANS a wealthy person, but as I returned to my warm home; bursting at the seams with things that I had little or no use for anymore, it hit me like a brick. I went to the linen closet. There were at least a half dozen old blankets. I grabbed them all & tossed them on the couch. In every closet and cabinet I opened I found more & more things to bring out, until the couch was buried under them and things spilled off onto the floor...
At almost midnight my sister called me as usual. (We both worked the night shift for years, and were used to being up pretty late.) I started telling her what I was doing and why. She stopped me half way through. She said I sounded like I was having a nervous breakdown and that she was on her way over. She walked in an hour or so later with 2 large coffees in hand. She shook her head at the sight of me sitting on the floor surrounded by the piles of things I was sorting through, then began unloading all the things she had brought over! I said, "What's all this? First you say I'm having a nervous breakdown, and now you're joining me in my insanity?" She just smiled & said "Yah. And? I said you're F*ing Crazy, But I never said I didn't get it!" LMAO!

We had boxes filled with our families old socks, shoes, clothes, gloves, beanies, scarves and coats... She even brought over a full case of peanut butter sandwich crackers & other things she had bought for her kids lunches that they wouldn't eat. (Because high school kids are just to cool for bagged lunches these days! LOL) We gathered every old gym bag and school backpack we could find and began making "care packages" out of them.
When we filled all the bags we had, we tossed about a dozen of them into my truck and headed out on our quest; searching for the homeless to share our gifts with... My sister cracking jokes and singing along the way. "BUM HUNTING WE WILL GO, BUM HUNTING WE WILL GO, HI-HO-THE-DARIO, BUM HUNTING WE WILL GO!"
First stop; the old guy at the laundromat. He was still there, and was sleeping soundly, for real this time. I grabbed the bag I had cram-packed especially for him including a pair of shoes and an old pillow. When I set it beside him I almost jumped out of my skin when I felt his hand touch mine. Without getting up he said "Thank You, for this" tugging at the blanket. I picked up the pillow and handed it to him. "You're Welcome" was all I could manage to say seeing his eyes start to well up a bit. I swallowed hard and motioned to the bag. "And if you're hungry, There's a little something in here for you too." I put my hand on top of his for a moment before walking back to the truck, resisting the urge to hug him. And off we went - A couple nights a week for the next few months... It was a life changing experience.