The homeless men of Laurel, the town I call home, spend three seasons each year living under bridges, in alleys, and sometimes even on the doorsteps of Main Street shops and businesses. Each winter, a group of faith communities join together to provide temporary shelter for them.

For one or two weeks each year, the men will spend their nights in church basements and multi-purpose rooms, where they receive a warm meal at night, a simple breakfast the next morning and a box lunch as they leave. Each evening for the entire winter, this pattern repeats itself at about 20 churches and a synagogue.

I was in a meeting about six years ago when one of the key leaders of this program called Winterhaven was asked, “I know the men of Laurel have a place to go during the winter, but aren't there women out there too?” “Pastor, do you want an honest answer to your question?” replied one of the key leaders of the program.

Then he told my colleagues and me how the homeless women of Laurel find ways to get in out of the cold — often by prostituting themselves in exchange for a warm room for the night. Those who work with the homeless call this “survival sex.”

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The pastors who were gathered that day took about 10 seconds to decide that it was time to start “Winterhaven for Women” — so that no daughter, mother or friend would ever again need to consider selling her body to get out of the cold.

In the years since that meeting, I have been amazed by two sets of Winterhaven women. The first are the “clients” who come each year to our church seeking shelter. Some have been so young — like a homeless high school student whose parents found many ways to communicate their rejection of her. Others have been grandmothers who spend their days wandering the Laurel Mall, window shopping and counting down the hours until Winterhaven opens again. Most are in their middle years, though their faces show that they are old for their age.

All have had difficult lives. In most cases, they now battle addictions and/or mental-health challenges. Nevertheless, about half still find a way to hold down a job. What I love about the program most is that Winterhaven restores for these women at least a little of the dignity that was endowed to them at their birth by their Creator. This dignity is reborn in them through the efforts of the other women of Winterhaven.

While a number of men in each church support the process, it is women who serve as the primary volunteers. I have seen women from my church give the homeless ladies manicures, pedicures and all the pamp

ering of an expensive spa. I have watched them listen to the same story over and over from a woman whose dementia gives her only distant memories. And I have watched them clean up an addict's vomit and the diarrhea from a client whose health was failing fast. The women who volunteer at Winterhaven have done this all without complaint. Most return year after year to help.

So, to all the women of Winterhaven who will arrive again at our church this Sunday evening, thank you. Thank you for reminding us of the One who took up a towel and washed his disciples dirty feet. Thank you for not being too busy to care.

>> If you'd like to become a Winterhaven volunteer, please email me at the Examiner. Additional volunteers are always welcome.

Kevin McGhee is a senior pastor at Bethany Community Church in Laurel and a 1978 graduate of the United States Naval Academy. He can be reached at kmcghee@baltimoreexaminer.com.