HEART WARMING LAUNDRY TALES

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Did you know, according to the World Health Organization, more than 264 million people worldwide suffer from depression? A staggering statistic underscores the urgent need for effective mental health treatments. There has been a growing interest in mindfulness and self-care practices to improve mental well-being in recent years. While activities like meditation, yoga, and journaling are often recommended, one unexpected self-care practice that has gained attention is doing laundry. 

The Bridge Communities developed many different programs that offered opportunities to “take the church to the people,” but one in particular stands out, mainly because it has now expanded to include many different faith communities across the United States. 

The baby’s dragged the sheets to the kitchen
and now she’s stuffing them in the washer,
one hand lifting a wad of yellow cotton,
the other reaching down for more and more. Breathing heavy,
she’s feeding vast swaths by the armful,
bent halfway into the mouth of the machine,

You would think that there’s only one way to fold towels.

But, you’d be wrong.

Growing up in Ashdown, Arkansas, my momma showed me how to fold them, as well as shirts, socks, underpants, and other personal sundries.

I assumed that this skillset would carry me all the way though until people were standing over me singing hymns.

But, I’ve been wrong. More than once.

 Doing laundry can feel like a chore. But for some, the hurdles to  washing their clothing are nearly insurmountable. For people who are  living on the street or are very-low income, the cost of doing laundry  can be prohibitive. It’s even harder if you have a disability, and live  up three flights of stairs. This is the problem Zae Illo is working to  solve. He calls it a ministry of laundry: a religious practice of  meeting people on the street, helping them wash their clothes, and  through that, listening to their stories. 

The laundry pods project was a way to teach the confirmation students about the importance of the corporal works of mercy and serving others, she said. Students are required to do 30 hours of service for the parish and community in the months leading up to their confirmation, slated for May 25. 

A local nonprofit is trying to make a difference in the lives of those people experiencing homelessness here in our community. 

Nicky Crawford has started the organization Flowing with Blessings to help those without homes. "Plain and simple, I've been blessed, and I know God told me to do this," he said.  

 As the water flows and the drum rotates, we can find peace in the knowledge that with each wash, life is giving us a fresh chance to cleanse our past and brighten our future. Whether it’s a stained shirt or a stained memory, the power of a good wash can leave us feeling refreshed and ready to face another day. 

My laundry dreams have come true, and I have to tell you, it’s as wonderful as I imagined. I hum when I do laundry. I almost look forward to it. It’s so easy. There’s no such thing as laundry day: I can do it whenever, while doing something else. When I hear that little “done now” song from the dryer and decide to ignore it for a while, I feel like Jay fucking Gatsby and his giant pile of shirts: wealthy, decadent, and surrounded by laundry that needs folding.  

Bubbles whirl, swish, and spin in a long row of very large machines. Clothes spin round and round in huge, industrial dryers. With that as the backdrop, storytime is in full swing at laundromats across the country.

The children and families who participate in story hours at their laundromat are part of a growing trend in library service to children aimed at providing early literacy programming, high-quality play experiences, and parental asides in everyday settings. 

Tara sat in front of the washing machine. She looked at the way the clothes moved in circles, sometimes showing a little bit of colour but mostly just black; she listened to the machine, a constant hum that echoed in the room where she waited. She thought about the way the clothes resembled a hurricane and how if she put her hand in the machine the clothes wouldn’t touch her, just like standing in the eye of a hurricane, knowing you’re in danger but at the same time knowing you are safe. When the machine beeped she took out the clothes and put them in the dryer; the ones that were delicate she extended on a drying rack. 

 A man wearing a short, black hat sits on the same bench as me. I sit on one end, and he sits on the other. The bench lines the long, tall widows that face the small parking lot attached to the laundromat. The parking lot has clear signage, “For Laundromat Customers Only.” I had snagged one of the last spots. I watch my car, which is behind my right shoulder, out of the corner of my eye. 

There’s a place in Sioux Falls, a little laundromat on the corner of Third Street and Cliff Avenue, where loneliness is washed away and dignity finds new hope with every load.

The sign over the door says Laundromat Company. But the name doesn’t begin to capture the wonders transpiring inside.

A laundry room in Syria's Aleppo brings convenience to local housewives who gather to share happiness and sadness while waiting for the end of the machine cycle. 

Holding sacks of clothes over their shoulders, several Syrian women frequent a laundry room in eastern Aleppo to wash their clothes and share stories until the 45-minute machine cycle ends.

Author: Nancy A. Stevens

“Honey, we woke up before the alarm clock went off!” my smiling husband remarked.

“That’s wonderful, but we’d better move quickly. We need to get the laundry done before I drop you off at work this morning.”