By Vicki-Ann Downing, Brockton Enterprise
Dennis Carman, president of the United Way of Greater Plymouth County, says that My Brother’s Keeper is rare among non-profits because it has remained true to its faith-based origins by not accepting public funding.
“They provide a needed service without any of the strings that come attached with other funding sources,” said Carman, who is former director at Father Bills and MainSpring Coalition of the Homeless.
“They have been there consistently through some difficult times, and I’d say some even more difficult times to come. As the need increases, they increase their efforts, and in a very quiet way they succeed,” said Carman.
“They ask from their hearts and they believe people give from their hearts.”
For 2005, the last year for which public records are available, My Brother’s Keeper reported revenue of $1.49 million and expenses of $1.35 million.
Early on, Jim and Terry Orcutt, founders of the Christian-based non-profit, decided to provide what they could to anyone who requested it without requiring proof of financial need or eligibility.
The idea came from Terry Orcutt.
She told her husband Jim, “In all of our readings of the New Testament, I don’t believe there’s one time when Jesus ever asked a single question to see if a person was worthy before helping. I think we should do the same.”
My Brother’s Keeper maintains a strict quality control program. It accepts furniture, bedding and dishes in very good condition.
“When you’re telling people the items you deliver come from God, you can’t give junk,” Jim Orcutt explained.
Their four white trucks are unmarked so there is no stigma attached. “God knows our name, that’s enough,” said Terry.
They don’t accept public funds because if they did, they couldn’t distribute crucifixes, which are given to each recipient.
Plus, Jim Orcutt said, it’s too easy to become reliant on government funding, which can wither in hard times.
They are always on guard against the human tendency to become judgmental, even when patience grows thin on broiling summer days as they struggle up narrow stairs to reach a third-floor apartment.
“If I want a judge I’ll go down to probate court and get myself a judge,” said Jim.