When is a lemonade stand more than a lemonade stand?

For one thing, it becomes something special when it is run by your 7-year-old granddaughters … with assistance from two of their best buddies and, of course, a hefty lift from their mom and dad.

It gets even more noteworthy when it’s featured on the Yorkville Police Department’s Facebook page, which gave the girls’ enterprise a “10 out of 10” for decorations and attitude, also ranking the “excellently refreshing lemonade and drive-in-drive-out access as superb.”

Even more impressive: Their few hours peddling regular and pink lemonade in the hot sun brought in well over $300 … much of which came from generous “tips” that far exceeded the dollar-a-glass price.

Among those giving patrons: the immigrant owner of a construction company working in their subdivision who recalled how at age seven in his native Mexico he began selling candy at school — then later his grandmother’s home-baked goods — which fueled his eventual entrepreneurship here in this country.

Who knows. Perhaps last weekend’s successful concession business (homemade cookies and snack bags were also for sale) will spark an entrepreneurial passion in one of the little girls.

What I loved most about this mid-summer project, however, was that all proceeds from the lemonade stand were delivered to Hesed House on Wednesday, an idea that came from the twins after learning more about the homeless shelter in Aurora.

Which would make proud any parent or grandparent who knows it’s never too early to help kids understand there are so many people out there far less fortunate than they are.

It’s hardly breaking news that social workers are concerned about the rising rates of homelessness locally and across the nation. According to the National Alliance to End Homelessness, over the last eight years, there has been a 40% increase in the number of unhoused Americans; with 2024’s rate the highest since the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development began keeping statistics nearly 20 years ago.

At Hesed House in Aurora there are currently 280 adults in the shelter, another 59 in the family shelter, with 120 more living in off-site locations. But those numbers are a “drop in the bucket” compared to what we will see in the future with federal government changes that greatly impact the poor, said Joe Jackson, executive director of the homeless facility.

He’s especially concerned about how this administration’s so-called “Big Beautiful Bill” will impact “permanent supportive housing,” which is intended for those with disabilities. Hesed House has 100 men, women and children who are benefiting from this help but there are, he said, “tens of thousands across the state.”

In a best-case scenario, Jackson said, “if the funding for this program gets cut 50-60% and is left up to states” to figure out how to distribute it, “Hesed House will fall under a grant for emergency solutions. And that means it can’t be used for permanent supportive housing,” which he notes, “has been scientifically proven as best practice for ending homelessness” because it is not only more dignified housing but is cheaper than shelters.

Jackson’s most immediate short-term concern is cuts to Medicaid; not just for people Hesed House serves but from partner agencies like the Association for Individual Development, which gets 80% of its funding from Medicaid.

And Hesed House, he told me, “does not exist without AID,” which is connected to so many of the homeless shelter’s services, including on-site mental and behavioral health counseling and street outreach.

“I don’t mean to be a doomsday predictor,” Jackson said. “But if things go through as is currently set up, we will see record numbers of homelessness … it will not just overwhelm the homeless system. It will collapse.”

Lore Baker, executive director of AID, is equally concerned. For one thing, the agency that serves those with developmental, intellectual, physical and/or mental health challenges and covers Kane, Kendall, DeKalb, McHenry, northern Cook, western DuPage and parts of Will counties, relies on SNAP benefits to feed residents in its group homes.

And she worries that changes to this program, as well as Medicaid, will involve an insurmountable volume of red tape as these individuals try to traverse a complicated processing system that can be intimidating even to those without disabilities.

Both executive directors bristle at the notion too many are taking advantage of welfare programs. If you look at Medicaid fraud, for example, “the vast majority are from fraudulent billers,” not the patients, said Baker.

And how often do you hear “these people just need to get a job,” said Jackson, adding that 80% of Hesed House residents work but don’t make enough money to afford a home, along with food, utilities and other expenses.

He also pointed out that the number of calls to the shelter’s Homeless Prevention Program, which is set up to keep people from losing the roofs over their heads, “is beyond anything we’ve seen in the past.”

From 2022 to the present, there have been 2,292 instances of people being able to stay in their homes.. And all these cases are “people who live locally, our neighbors, with plenty working multiple jobs just to keep the lights on,” Jackson said.

“Without this type of program, they would already be on the streets or in shelters.”

On that same topic, Baker points out that people on Social Security disability receive $997 a month, which would not begin to cover most rent these days.

“I’ve worked in this business for 30-plus years and have never seen anything like the way HUD has raised its fair market rent,” she said, referring to the 40% increase a couple years ago, following by the more recent 20% uptick.

“It is a basic misunderstanding of the way the world works from those who do not have to worry about living paycheck to paycheck,” insisted Baker. “There is a vindictiveness and unkindness that is not warranted. Even able-bodied people are working their buns off to be able to survive.”

Lazarus House Executive Director Kristi Athas, noting there are “few entry level jobs out there right now for our guests” has “yet to meet someone working the system.” And she invites anyone who believes differently to take a tour of the St. Charles shelter she leads.

“I promise you will see people who look like you and me, working at your bike store or bagging your groceries,” she said. “It doesn’t matter who you are. When you see a mother and child being homeless, how can that not impact you and push us all to do better?”

There’s no question it’s also been a challenging time for social workers in the trenches. Baker admits she’s shed plenty of tears in recent months, “and I’m not a crier.”

What’s referred to as “compassion fatigue” is a real thing, with nonprofits under tremendous pressure to deal with the surge in need. Unfortunately, “based on what we’re seeing” at Hesed House, said Jackson, “faith organizations are also stretched to capacity … there is only so much water you can wring out of a towel.”

Athas sees the breaking point as well. “All the points in the system are being pinched,” she said. “We are all pulling every lever we have, but there is only a finite amount of levers we can pull.”

All of which brings us back to the need for more empathy. It’s a characteristic that can’t be instilled too early, according to Athas, who sees youngsters once or twice a week show up at Lazarus House with sandwiches for residents, and Jackson, who is encouraged when children raise money for the Aurora shelter.

Whether it’s a neighborhood lemonade stand or a Scouting project or individual kids donating their birthday money, the payout far exceeds the dollar amount, he said.

It’s not only “teaching empathy toward others,” it is showing those who are homeless “there are people who really do care.”

It “means the world to them,” Jackson concluded, adding a sentence I’ve heard him say frequently and with conviction: “It gives them hope for a better tomorrow.”

dcrosby@tribpub.com