….While the Missionaries of Charity operate homeless outreach missions in the Tenderloin in San Francisco and in Oakland, there is a specific mission that focuses on one-on-one, long-term outreach beyond those missions. The ministry, run by Sister Salvina, is a stable resource to those who are chronically homeless. Most of the individuals she visits have one or more mental illnesses, primarily schizophrenia, and have fallen through the cracks of the “system” in San Francisco.

The Missionary of Charity sisters who work in in homeless outreach truly exemplify the heart of the Good Shepherd. Sister Salvina knows the name of each person she visits, including family history, medical history, how long and where they have lived on the street, even their favorite food, birthday and other details. To the world, these human beings are overlooked and forgotten. To her, each person she works with is truly known, seen and loved….

I recently traveled with her, another sister and a 20-year volunteer, Albert Kohler. Sister had already been out that morning with a retired barber who volunteers his time cutting the hair of the homeless. During our visits that day, she told me she hoped we would see a man named William to check on him, as he had told her that he tried to take his life earlier in the week….

At our first stop, while sharing hot coffee, sandwiches, new clothes and a new blanket to help a woman stay warm, the van drew more men and women hoping for the same.

One such person was Dale, who had just gotten out of jail that day. Sister Salvina rejoiced when she spotted him. With tears in his eyes, he told her that he was heading to his family’s house and that he had just had his birthday two weeks prior. It was evident that he was thirsting for love.

After giving him some food and hot coffee, she gave him a birthday present—a St. Benedict medal cross. They prayed together before she gave it to him, and he wore it proudly. She then asked what his next steps were and how he intended to get back on his feet. She invited him to the soup kitchen for food and fellowship.

We next went to visit a man named Renner, who lives in a tent under an overpass. We parked across the street and made our way down the hill into an open area surrounded by bushes. The area around the tent had burnt trash, old clothes and various food boxes. Sister Salvina caught sight of a tin that was empty, happy that the meal she had given him earlier in the week was eaten.

“So often if we don’t bring them food, they don’t eat,” she explained.

Renner was not home, so we got back into the van and headed to another spot down the street. As we drove under another overpass, Sister Salvina told me about the people living in the small pockets of pillars of the bridge. When we arrived, we walked toward the reservoir behind the freeway, tapping on tents as we passed by to let residents know the van was there with food.

We came to a dirt path above the reservoir, and Sister Salvina began calling out to William. This was where he lived—under an overpass near a giant metal pipe. She showed me where she had previously crawled, under the freeway, to try and find him and others to check on them. As we were looking into the cracks to find him, she turned, spotted William behind us, and joyfully invited him to come to the van….

We next met three men who were living in an encampment with their dogs. Upon seeing one of the men, Daniel, Sister Salvina remembered that he had wanted juice the last time they met. She went into what could be described as her Mary Poppins van and found everything they needed, including Daniel’s juice.

Our next attempted visit, to a man named David, failed when we could not find him near his home next to the railroad tracks.

We then visited Michael who lived down the street in a tent. He playfully showed the sisters his new dinosaur mask as they handed him food. We prayed with him and left him with a solar-powered flashlight.

The last man we visited was Serion. He has schizophrenia and autism. We gave him a flashlight and hot food and prayed with him before we left….

By Mary Powers of the Archdiocese of San Francisco