NO LEFTOVERS, PLEASE!

      Turkey Day is over—for most of us. Folks living at shelters will be eating turkey and fixin's until it's gone, no matter how long that may take. They are still picking at huge pans of peas, rice, and turkey at our shelter, but for lunch today Joey made breakfast! He had the ovens full of fat biscuits, a 2-gallon pot of sausage gravy, scrambled eggs, and canned fruit. "I got you a bag of fruit, Miss Joy," he announced after showing off his plan. He knows I won't buy a plan without fruit or a vegetable.

       We had a new community-service helper—a young fellow who is quite charming and obviously from an upscale home. He was quiet and industrious, but his serious demeanor faded as the morning passed, and I think he might have even been enjoying himself by the time I left. I hope he's there next week; I want to be a greater influence.

       Angry Child and his mother have moved away. They have a place of their own now. I spend a lot of time trying to imagine whether the child's circumstances are better or worse—alone with his mother. He won't have a shelter full of folks to insulate him…

       We did need puddings and string cheese today because there are two new children—little guys, but big enough for bubble gum. I didn't get a chance to interact with them, but I was happy to see they have two parents, good manners, and are well behaved. That family will be okay—just as soon as they get on their feet again.

       Bitty Baby brought his parents to lunch. I had mashed some peaches and pears for him, and he scarfed them down, his little cave popping open as soon as he swallowed. I offered several times to help his mommy hold him, but she didn't need any help. Heck.

       Pretty Woman has metamorphosed. Covered in makeup and cheap perfume, she looks much older now, and she has a new dilemma. I no longer see her as a victim. Some people accuse me of being too quick to judge, but this one is hanging herself.

       Our Angel was feeding the pigeons when I drove in, but the lunch crowd was so busy that I didn't see him again.

       The deaf fellow is still there. He took one look at the lunch plates and signed, "No! That's breakfast! I want LUNCH!" I tried everything I knew to convince him that it might be breakfast food, but it was really good! No cigar.

       He held his ground until I was thoroughly discouraged. Then I had an epiphany: I grabbed one of the sack lunches from the fridge and held it up. Yes! That's what he wanted—lunch! Later, he brought his empty biscuit & sausage gravy bowl to the counter to ask for more. I wasn't in on his first helping, and we didn't talk about his menu adjustments. We did talk about how much I need for him to slow down when he speaks to me… and before he left he held up his hand, "I love you." He patted my back softly, and I gave him a hug. It must be so lonesome where he lives.

       Well… another memorable day in the kitchen has blessed my soul. Maybe by next week the leftovers will be over.

GOD AND THE DEVIL—TOUGH GIG

      I have never seen so much diversity of duties in that kitchen! …and it had nothing to do with food prep.
       Hadn't been there but 5 minutes when our beloved gatekeeper brought an hysterical woman (Pretty Woman) to the dining room where he could sit with her. Five minutes later he came into the kitchen and asked me to see if my womanliness might do her more good. Besides, he had the gate to keep. So I went to sit with her. She was desperate to cry all over me and didn't hesitate to begin the long saga of how she came to be there. "I never thought that getting this low could happen to me. I'm a professional and I've always had a lot of money..." I won't tell you her profession, but it's certainly comparable to school principal or head social worker. She's just lost her way profoundly! Her story took an hour to tell—leaving out many details just to give me an understanding of the main theme.
       She's been going to lots of churches while homeless, and many people (even pastors!) have told her that a certain person in her past "put a curse on her." You know, it's hard to play to a crowd that's already been had by many pastors, but I told her that curses are balderdash! I said that if a mean person said bad things about her and if she embraced those as true—shame on her. I told her to not let other people define her—and here and there she'd get a look of understanding. Sadly, we had to conclude our session so I could help Joey feed the masses… and that sweet woman is back in the hands of those who would have her believing that the Devil and curses are calling the shots with her life.
       Joey and I served pizza, fruit, and fries. Angry Child got a little pudding and a piece of string cheese from me. He said "thank you" without prompting. ALL of the other little boys are gone because their mother drank alcohol—four well-behaved, precious little boys and a mother who always showed me that she was a strong woman. I can't tell you how much I hate that she lost her family's opportunities for want of a drink—mostly because what does that say about me? I have wine every day…
       We have a new baby—just the cutest little baby you ever saw, and reaching out to me eagerly. I SO wanted to hold him, but I had to stay with my duties, and there were 48 sandwiches to make between serving lunches. Oh, and while I was mashing some peaches for the baby, Angry Child's "all about me" mother was calling to me over the counter, "Miss? Miss? Can I have some Half 'n Half and some sugar?" I had to tell her she'd need to wait. Who taught that woman that she is always the only person in the room?
       The pre-release group was modest, maybe 8 or 10 guys. They were reserved today, but polite. I think I'm beginning to see signs of another one that I might adopt—no rush.
       Our Angel is still there and still crisply dressed. The homeless crowd filled the dining room; winter is surely setting in. Pretty Woman came through the line and gave me a smile. "I'm feeling better," she said.
       "And you look better. There's no place to go but UP."
       Joey had been privy to the whole scene earlier, and we'd talked about the situation some. I asked him if he thought One might be a good counselor for Pretty Woman, and he said no! Then I said I guessed Mr. Huggy wouldn't be a good choice because of his work experience (not even close to social work). To my great surprise, Joey said Mr. Huggy would be perfect—because he used to LIVE there! I didn't KNOW that! But he did! He hit bottom, went to live there, and rose FAR above his troubles; today he's probably one of the BEST resources we could possibly find for Pretty…maybe.
       Somewhere during the mad dash of serving the crowd of homeless, Joey mentioned that he didn't know sign language, and somebody needed something… and I thought he was just joking about some person who was perhaps jesturing. No. There was a handsome fellow standing at the counter—deaf, deaf, deaf—who wanted lunch… and I could talk to him. It was like… well, like getting a surprise gift—for both of us. There he stood, in his silence, and there I stood with my clumsy but comprehensible hands. And he smiled. He said "thank you" so many times, and he didn't hesitate to tell me I was doing it wrong! But it was all about having an exchange—so I explained that in my sign language class, long ago, we were taught "signing exact English." He appreciated knowing that, but I'm still doing it wrong :)
       And there is a very young man there who knows the sign language alphabet. So our deaf one isn't totally alone.
       Three hours into my SHIFT (by God, today it was a shift!), I packed my things to leave. Mr. Huggy had just finished spending some private time with Pretty Woman in the dining room. (See? Providence knew they needed to meet.) He came to the kitchen to give me a hug. I told him how thankful I was that he was there for Pretty, and he said (Oh, God put your arm around my shoulder and your hand across my mouth!)… "It's just the Devil. God can fix all things. She'll make it."
       I'm okay until that Devil thing comes into play… and, of course, curses. And I have some doubts about Pretty. She has the background to rise above these troubles, but how she fell into them tells me that she may not have the "I'm worth it" that saves mosts folks.
       Tough gig.
       

Extras! Extras!

       Nothing was planned for today's lunch. Joey brought a dozen leftover plates from the cooler and several containers of food from previous meals. One of them had a "starter soup" in it, so we added the baked potatoes, peas, carrots, spaghetti, refried beans… it was another winning pot, and I had the pleasure of offering seconds and thirds. The children certainly could have a bag of potato chips. Yes, a bowl of fruit was available for the asking. Boy, do I enjoy passing out the food!
       Angry Child is spending his Sunday elsewhere, as he has for several weeks now, but I left his goodies in the fridge for tonight. The other little boys were there and happy to get their treats.
       Our angel is still there. I told him I was happy to see him. Poor thing; he took the soup, but had to decline the sandwich. He just hasn't enough teeth for that. He isn't wearing white today, but his clothes look freshly pressed.
       I worked hard for 3 hours, but enjoyed every minute. We had great C&W music, lots of friendly interruptions from residents, a fairly quiet pre-release group, and nothing really new.
       Joey and I counted the leftover plates (10), the pizza/corn/fruit plates (10), the soup/sandwich plates (16), and allowed for 10 more made up with barbecue sandwiches and potato salad. Those last plates never got made up, as the first groups of food carried us through the lunch hour. It never fails that if I think we don't have enough, we have too much—and vice versa—so having just the right amount always pleases me.
       Only 12 sack lunches were needed. Joey and I sang along with the music, and we created another of our entertaining infomercials… but wait! Call now… He knows all the jargon and can spit it out rapidly. What a neat kid. Mr. Huggy was busy shuttling folks to church and back, and didn't come to the kitchen before I left.
       Next week, I'm supposed to be traveling, so I won't be posting a kitchen blog. Besides, Joey plans to have next Sunday off, to compensate for an off day he missed this week. Works for ME, but my dear ones will suffer a whole Sunday with "NO EXTRAS! I don't give extras!"
       If they cross your mind, offer up a Sunday prayer for them.