Faith in Action

Michele Vella

February 16, 2004

Rosita, an illegal immigrant from the Puebla, Mexico, walks towards the basement of Queen of Angels Church. She makes a fist and raises her hand in an attempt to knock on the door but then, suddenly, turns away. Back and forth, back and forth -- she looks like she is performing some frenzied dance, charged by a combination of her nerves, cold weather and pride. "I would have never imagined I would be asking for this kind of help," she says in Spanish. Before she completely turns away and goes back to the apartment she shares with 10 other undocumented workers, the door opens, almost miraculously, from the other side and out pops the head of Carmena Verja, 48, also known as "la senora de los abrigos" or "the coat woman." Verja calls Rosita to enter. She doesn't even bother to ask her what she wants. With a smile that could warm up even the most frigid day, she points in the direction of three mounds of coats on the basement floor. "Take whatever you need," she says, "Oh and let me know if I could help you in any way." Rosita heads towards the coats and digs through them, searching for the right sizes for her daughter, 5, and her son, 7. She is put at ease by Verja's charm and openness.

For 10 winters, Carmena Verja and the parish community of Queen of Angels in New York have been on a mission -- to provide impoverished residents with winter coats. During the blizzard of 1993, Verja and several other church members noticed Mexican families walking down the streets without winter coats. They wore, instead, layers of tee-shirts and sweaters to keep warm. Verja and the others knew something had to be done. But she didn't have the financial resources to jumpstart such a charity and neither did the others.

Father Robert, pastor of Queen of Angels, said the majority of his church live in poverty themselves, earning below poverty wages and living in project or government subsidized housing. "It is quite remarkable that despite their poverty, they are not thinking of themselves, they are thinking about how they could help others," Father Robert said.

"We sat in a prayer circle and prayed for God's guidance," remembers Verja. "We didn't just want to be Christians in name, we wanted to be Christians in action. We didn't have money but we had the faith to believe that God would guide us."

The parish mustered their faith and every second of their free time to go out into the community and raise money. Headed by Verja, they knocked door to door, telling people about the lack of warm weather gear they had witnessed. They asked for donations of money and coats. That first year, 1993-1994, they received some 400 coat donations and raised close to $3,000. The following year, they added fundraising opportunities to their repertoire, including bake sales, dances and auctions. They sought corporate money. Now, Verja estimates, the church takes in $5,000 per year to purchase new coats and gets an additional several hundred coat donations.

"Our church does not have the intention of going out and converting people, says Adrianna Solizano, a church volunteer. "We are definitely not that kind of Church. We just feel really fortunate and blessed that God has given us the necessities that we need in our lives and we want to do God's work and give those same necessities and blessings to other people even if it is in a small way."

Benita's, now a volunteer with the coat drive, received coats for her whole family five years ago. An immigrant from the Dominican Republic, she shied away from asking for any government handouts, including welfare, food stamps or subsidized housing. She believes people come to the United States with the dream of providing for themselves and their families. Hard work, therefore, was part of the equation.

She felt like a failure when she couldn't afford to buy her family winter coats. "It was so hard for me to bring myself to go to the church. I felt like I was asking for a handout," admits Benita in Spanish. But, she never had to ask. The piles of coats were there. Carmena Verja asked no questions. Benita took what she needed. Through the work of a group of dedicated church members, she says, God provided for her.

"You don't have to show your faith or belief in God in big ways," says Verja. Sometimes just the warmth of a coat could reaffirm that God does exist.

(Updated April 29, 2004)