Thunder rolled through our area at 5 o'clock this morning. By the time I got up at 8 and to the shelter kitchen at 10, the storm had put down roots, with high winds and lightening. Joey had lunch prep underway, and the kitchen was warm and safe. Let the rain fly!
We were serving deviled eggs (5 dozen), sausage gravy with biscuits, pizza with salad, and applesauce with brown sugar and cinnamon. Everybody got something they wanted—and they all wanted deviled eggs. "My mama made those," I heard, and for some reason it makes me uncomfortable to provide that sort of memory for folks—like I evoked unnecessary sadness.
A young woman came to work with us around mid-morning. Joey said she was working off her community service and that he'd give anything to know what she did. He cannot imagine such a person breaking the law. "She's like you, Miss Joy—high class."
High class. Who knew?
I very much enjoyed the child. We made the sack lunches together. She told me that she'd been coming to the kitchen during the week and working with Miss Lillian and other ladies. They made her put napkins in all the sacks… and they made her make up the sacks one at the time. She was delighted when I lined up a bunch of sacks and filled them assembly-line style. We had fun.
Another new face came to lunch. Joey made a special plate for her and told me to save it "for Miss Patsy." When Miss Patsy came through the line, I asked for her room number and she became very agitated. "Ask Joey!" she demanded. Then she grabbed a plate and moved on before I ascertained that she was "Miss Patsy" who got the special plate.
"Miss Patsy?" I called. "Joey made a special plate for you."
She came back to the counter—much subdued and kinder. She's an angry woman. She seems to feel that she's been cheated of some circumstance that she deserves. Maybe she has. Certainly, Joey does not group her with the rest of the residents who he deems lazy—just plain lazy.
We had lots of opportunity for math today. I see improvement. And he sees improvement! He made a 94 on last week's exam and says that learning comes so much easier for him now. I tell him it's because he's exercising his brain. Truly, Joey is a rich example of what can happen when we want something. I'm so proud of him.
Okay, people, let's talk shop before I close. It's about that can opener. UPDATE: A large corporate restaurant is sending us a table-mounted, hand-crank industrial can opener! I WAS going to ask you guys for donations toward a new electric model, but now... now all I need is prayers. It might be less than slick to pass this table-mounted "contraption" off on Miss Lillian. I might have to elicit such dirty words as OSHA. I certainly FEEL like I'll need prayers. They're free. You can do this.
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