We live in a crazy world.

People are hoarding toilet paper, not silver or gold.

The top television show isn’t something intellectual – it’s a series about an egomaniac who breeds big cats, has three husbands and is in jail on a murder-for-hire judgment.

The president of the United States gets into verbal bashings with members of the press who go on to bash him and we’re headed into a world-wide recession.

It’s easy to lose hope, and that’s what I was feeling.

Until I saw what two young men are doing to make the world a better place through a servant’s heart.

These two young men are my nephews, Jason Hebert and Randall McGarry.

Jason is the manager for a number of Waffle Houses in Louisiana and became concerned when stores started closing their doors.

He and a friend put together a program “Waffle House Adopt a Meal” that serves a free breakfast to those on the front lines – first responders, government officials and other essential workers.

With his sister, Tara, handling the media blitz, including social media and television, the drive has been extremely successful.

Jason’s reason for pushing the program is simple. He has a purpose.

“I’m doing my part of being part of a bigger picture,” he said. “It makes me feel good to give back.”

In Richmond, Va., Randall is the manager at a local restaurant and became concerned when the coronavirus started shuttering eateries. Restaurant servers and wait staff are notoriously underpaid, and many live paycheck to paycheck.

Randall and three friends organized an online fund, “Support Richmond Restaurant Workers” with money going directly to restaurant workers who need money to make ends meet.

Not only that, the friends are working to establish a union to have employers provide better working conditions for servers, including equitable pay and improved benefits.

To say our family is proud of these young men is an understatement. Giving back to the community is a commitment that runs deep in our family and that’s done without ever asking for publicity or thanks.

Great-grandfather Herbie Hebert ran a newspaper in Vidor and was a huge supporter of unions.

When he died prematurely, the church overflowed into the parking lot with working-class people who believed Herbie to be their hero.

On my mom’s side, great-grandfather Henry Eade was an immigrant who came to this country with only the money in his pocket and big dreams.

He made a solid living for his family and served on the school board. Although dangerous, he established and funded a clinic in his hometown back in Lebanon for both Muslims and Christians.

Randall’s father has volunteered with the Kiwanis Club in Martinsville, Va., is a years-long volunteer with the Boy Scouts of America and is currently a judge in Martinsville when he’s not volunteering in his church parish.

Jason’s dad regularly goes to Central America to provide free dental care for locals and has provided free dental care to prisoners. He’s also a decades-long religious education teacher.

Our mom volunteered at the local hospital in her 70’s and 80s, and my sister volunteered on the Child Advocates’ board, CASA, for years in her hometown and served on the United Way board.

Youngest sister is a church youth leader and catechist and volunteers with the community storehouse board that provides food and backpacks for school-age children.

Our brothers have taught religious education for years, worked with prison ministries and were working with the governor’s wife on a prison-education program in Louisiana.

The in-laws donate their talents by coordinating events and supplies with their spouses, including providing meals for school kids, a parish program to prevent child abuse and neglect and help with online support groups for kids, animals and those with chronic illnesses. One has sewn and donated hundreds of face masks in the past two weeks.

Our cousins volunteer in schools, civic groups and in their cities.

Service to community is how they live their lives, and that generosity is sprinkled with laughter and a reluctance to stand in the limelight.

Whenever I see the madness and sorrow in the world, all I have to do is look at this wonderfully endearing family that quietly serves to know I’m as incredibly blessed as the communities where they live.

Our grandfathers would be quite proud.

 

    This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.