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Hospitality to the Imprisoned ˜ 167
ily members of inmates the opportunity to visit their sons, daughters, mothers,
fathers, husbands, wives, grandsons, or granddaughters. One Saturday each
month, volunteer drivers in an assortment of cars and vans depart from the
Open Door and wind through the streets of Atlanta in a caravan, arriving at the
MARTA Five Points station at Alabama and Peachtree Streets, where we greet
and are greeted by our fifty to seventy friends who will be making the trip. It is
here, on this windy, bustling corner in the middle of Atlanta, where our friends
have arrived by bus, by train, by foot. Often they share with us moments of
thankfulness for times when “it’s not raining (Hallelujah!)”; or a patient bus
driver allows us to load up and we don’t have to keep circling the block to make
way for MARTA; or we decide, after an intentional delay, to wait “one more
minute” before leaving, and we see another of our families, hands waving, racing
toward us! And, with a grateful sigh, we’re on our way!
We arrive at about noontime in Milledgeville, a lovely, historic community
southeast of Atlanta. Here we are always warmly greeted at the Milledgeville
Presbyterian Church, where each month a delicious hot meal awaits (as well as
special treats for the children), lovingly prepared and served by church members.
Not only do we enjoy a delightful lunchtime together, but everyone has a chance
to relax and to be refreshed before driving the short distance to Hardwick for the
visit. The friendly spirit and the many thoughtful gestures typify the genuine
hospitality we experience each time.
Bill Morgan, pastor of the church, shared a letter with the Open Door that
he had received last fall. It was from a woman in the Hardwick prison whose
mother travels with us. She expressed her gratitude by writing, “Every month
you so kindly and friendly feed my family that comes from Atlanta to visit me.
The Thanksgiving dinner with all the trimmings was the only dinner I’m sure
my mother had. I want to say ‘thank you,’ not just for my family, but for all
those that are fed at your church each month.” (In the letter, she had enclosed
a small religious tract with a message about how, many times, people wait for,
or expect, others to do certain things, and that sometimes “nobody does anything.”)
The letter continued: “I send this tract to you because you choose to be
a ‘do-body’ . . . you’re a doer of the Word, and I praise God for you.”
How grateful we are for these Christian friends in Milledgeville who open
their doors to us with such a welcome and in a caring way!
In preparing this article, I realized that the portion of our trip I would find
difficult to relate would be the visit that families, or friends, and inmates enjoy
together. The meaning of this time, however, is partially reflected in the joy expressed
by the mother sharing a picture of her son receiving his diploma; and
her pride in his hours spent helping other inmates to read. She writes: “The trip
to Hardwick means a great deal to me, for it is a time of fellowship with our
loved ones; a time to show them that through it all we care, we’re concerned,
and we love them.” And she encourages us: “Keep on keeping on!”