"I SOLD SOME DRUGS"

      Today's service to the shelter kitchen began yesterday. I bought two enormous cabbages, a bag of carrots, black olives, green olives, a box of cherry tomatoes, and two kinds of chunk cheese.

       I chopped up the cabbages and cut the carrots into sticks. It was all stored in 4 gallon-size zip-lock bags. Then I made 70 kabobs with the other stuff, on 4-inch wooden skewers. Then I rubbed a bunch of BenGay on my back and took half a pain pill. "Miss Joy," Joey asked today, "how long does it take to make those kabobs?"

       "Until the wine runs out," I told him.

       Our kitchen was joyously filled with help this morning. Hard-working Gal came again and set about making those !$@^%ing sack lunches. She does it with such cheer! And I make sure she is well praised. I got my cabbage and carrots in a HUGE pot with a bit of water, a large chunk of butter, some salt, pepper, and celery seed. It was at least a half hour before the bottom portion was cooked enough to turn the mixture over. Eventually, that mass of cabbage wasn't nearly so large, and I felt that it was ready, so I turned it off.

       In the meantime, I peeled a dozen huge potatoes and cubed them for boiling. Teacher's Pet came to help, as promised last week. He wanted to know, "What are you going to do with the potatoes?" Joey wanted to know too. I think they were disappointed to hear that I was only going to boil them, add butter, salt & pepper, and a bit of milk. When the spuds were finished, however, nobody questioned the recipe.

       Joey had boiled several dozen eggs, and I had prepared the mayo mixture for deviled eggs last night. So Pet cut them apart and filled them for me. We had a gigantic platter of deviled eggs, with the kabobs in the middle.

       It wasn't enough. Joey had intended to serve a pan of mac 'n cheese with this meal, but Miss Lillian wouldn't let him have one. She wanted those for "dinner entrees" (much too good as a side dish at Sunday lunch). Just saying… pzzzzt.

       So there we were with our eggs, our cabbage, and our potatoes. Not enough. I suggested we open some large cans of corned beef hash (after all, it's not that far from St. Patty's Day). I fried two huge pans of hash, and the plates did look sumptuous when they were assembled.

       Joey sure knows how to keep his mops running when he has kitchen help! He's never idle, but I am amused by how much he'd rather mop than cook. Doesn't matter. Each of us served our purposes well and fully. I don't know how all the work would have been accomplished without that team.

       Lunch was SO successful! We had only 7 or 8 pre-release diners and they were quiet. Eternally Hostile Woman left last week—she has earned her way to greener pastures. I wish her well. So, after the prisoners finished, we did expect a much larger homeless crowd, but I was surprised that thirty-two people showed up! Joey heated a large pan of leftover pasta, and we made do, as the food level went down. When the last two people came to the counter, all they got was pasta and deviled eggs. Still, the pasta dish was full of cheese and broccoli—so it was nutritious.

       Angel didn't come to lunch. Joey said that of all the people there, Angel "deserved one of the good plates" (corned beef/the works), and he told me to give his to Angel. We wrapped it, and set it aside. I never did see Angel, but he'll probably show up for the afternoon snack time.

       Because there was so much to do today, I'd gone in a bit early, and I was late leaving. I was rummaging through the refrigerator when two hands squeezed my shoulders. I didn't even have to turn around, "Hugs!" Yep, it was The Hugs himself. When I did turn around, he squeezed me again (oh, please). He asked how I was and said he was fine. I did forget to ask Joey for "the scoop," so you still know only as much as I do.

       Pet says he's leaving in 2 weeks—has a job and an apartment and a real desire to get on with his life—maybe even college. He plans to come again next week, and Joey and I made a soup menu, so Pet can see how we do that. We're planning chef salad, garlic bread sticks and soup.

       Before I left, Pet and I had a long conversation about life and stuff. I asked him what would he like to do? He'd really, really like to be a fireman! Now doesn't that sound doable? Not if you've committed a felony. If you've committed a felony, there are apparently many things that are permanently out of reach. He leaned way across the prep table and lowered his voice, "I sold some drugs."

       And I felt sad about that. But college—that is within reach, and he wants that. I wore a Paris t-shirt to work today, and Pet's eyes often fell on the Eiffel Tower. "Have you been to Paris?" Eventually, I came to tell him that if he goes to college (by way of grants, loans, scholarships—doable), he can study one year abroad in most any country, for the same price (except for airfare). HE has always thought only the very wealthy could to that! Boy, you just never know when you're carting around a BIG secret that might change somebody's life!

       Oh… and he's black. I showed him a picture of my child, and he was absolutely amazed. "Miss Joy, I never thought you had a black child!" And well, why would he have? He sees me differently now. It's an opportunity to make a difference—and I only have 2 more Sundays to do it. This is where my "spiritual" self says, "Joy, keep your mouth shut and let the Spirit speak for you!" (I'm not very spiritual until it comes to the important stuff.)

       Gate Keeper came by the kitchen, and I gave him some kabobs. We didn't get a chance to talk.

       The babies were at lunch, but I could see only the stroller. I left two jars of meat sticks for them—for a day when the shelter meal might not be as kid-friendly as today's. And the adolescents were there. I gave them little baggies with goodies, and I spread some art kits for them to choose from. A tall, scraggly fellow took one of the kits. "No, no." I said. "Put that back—you're too big." Isn't that sad? I wish I could afford to offer ALL of the residents a little art kit. I just know their days seem like eternities.

       It's dark today and cold. Spring is out there, blooming, but we can't feel it. Several people came to the counter after lunch to thank us for their meal—their one home-cooked meal in God-only-knows how long. I can see I'll need more wine for Saturday preparations.

A GENTLER REALITY?

       Apparently, a fever and hang-dog feeling aren't enough to keep me away from the shelter. I packed my cutting board, knives, kiddie treats, a banana for breakfast, and headed in—late, but going.

       Last night I emailed Joey that I wasn't feeling well, and asked him to please keep lunch simple. He got the message, and there was pizza in the oven and salad on the prep table when I got there. Too, that same hard-working gal from last month was there, working some service hours. All I had to do was help her, and play—we have two new babies!

       Last week's babies (3 & 5) are gone. Their father had a fit of temper, struck a shelter worker in the face, bloodied her nose, and threatened to kill a person who had patted one of his boys on the back. The man's problems are far greater than we imagined. Of course he's in jail now, and the children are in the custody of DSS. We're all thinking their mother probably does want them—contrary to the man's story. Sigh.

       Anyway, today's babies are siblings 1 & 2, and with their mom. I made them special plates with toddler-friendly foods, cut into bite-size pieces. Next week, I'll take a jar of meat sticks.

       Our adolescents got there well before I left today! I hadn't seen them in a few weeks, and they were happy to have their gum and candies. They're such appreciative kids, and well mannered. I gave them some little drawing kits from the art supply, and they were so happy to get them!

       The pre-release who has attached himself to me (let's call him Teacher's Pet), promised that next week he's going to be in the kitchen, with me, helping! "Really?" I asked.

       Yep… he's going to help, and he wants me to teach him how to make my special soup. No, honest. That's what he said. So I told him I was thinking about bringing in some cabbages to sauté. He liked the idea.

       Gate Keeper and I had an opportunity to swap stories, and I find his life more and more intriguing. He's a super-intelligent, highly educated, deeply caring person who has been placed where he can use all of those attributes, but only in a very quiet, out-of-sight way. While you and I are watching, most of the world will never see how much good he's doing.

       Angel was at lunch with a big smile. I keep wanting to give him a hug, but that stupid serving bar comes between us, and I don't want to make a scene in front of his housemates.

       Eternally Angry Woman called to me, as I was chopping celery. The ice bin was nearly empty. So I filled it. It's cumbersome and heavy. Not her problem. She sees me as a person of privilege, and she hates me for it. I have no reason to blame her.

       Hard-working Gal and I made 36 sack lunches between serving duties and dinner prep. That's about it. I'll try to get a report on Mr. Huggy next week—I forget to ask, and he doesn't show up.

     I noticed as I was leaving that it was obvious where the toddlers had eaten their lunch—a green bean and a spoon on the floor, along with a few crumbs—just like home.

I NEED SOME WORDS

       Today's events were overwhelming at moments—and it's difficult to find the words or a starting point—so I'll just begin at the beginning. Gate Keeper greeted me with, "Joey's not here; he's running late, but Mr. Bob is mopping the dining room and kitchen."
       I turned on the lights in the dark kitchen. The smell of old grease struck me first. I put away my coat, washed my hands, got an apron, and was just about to rummage through the walk-in fridge when Joey came in. He'd overslept, and I guess a lot of people did on this "spring forward" morning when God's time is cast aside for policy makers and sports fools.
       Joey didn't have a clue what he was going to serve for lunch, but suggested we open several dozen cans of white-meat chunk chicken for a salad. I was prepared—cutting board, knives, peeler. He gave me several packages of limp celery and two big onions. A young woman working off some community service joined us, and soon she had opened all of the chicken cans, and a few dozen cans of peaches. Joey put frozen rolls in the oven and a large pot of spinach on the stove. Lunch was underway; we had one hour until serving time.
       Mr. Bob is new to me, but not to the shelter. He told me he had lived at the shelter for a year as a pre-release. A year! Now, he's going to school and doing community service as part of his classes. He's hanging out with his aging parents, and his hoard of "old friends" has been culled to three. He knows exactly what he wants and how to get it. "You have to want a good life," he told me. "I'm never going back." He impressed me a great deal. Of course, Joey's known him a long time and thinks the world of him.
       Eternally Angry Woman was just plain hostile today. Surely she has some mental issues that keep her from staying on course emotionally. She looked at the food, she looked away. She stood there, looking away, long enough to make a statement—none of that crap for her! Then she asked the other kitchen helper to hand her a KFC box on top of the stove. Apparently, all that harrumphing over the food was just for show.
       A few others made unkind remarks about the food, but one of my buddies was there with "Miss Joy! Miss Joy!" and a big smile. Others said nothing, but I could see their bulging cheeks as they chowed down. Oh, and one fellow who has pointedly avoided making eye contact with me for weeks, and made it plainly known that he wasn't going to speak to the white lady—well, today I told him how much I like his jacket, and he just fell all over me with thank-yous and smiles. It was surely a mixed bag with the pre-release.
       When the homeless came in, it was as if they had arrived from a foreign country—the two groups are so disparate! And speaking of foreign countries, we have two babies! They are scrawny little fellows about 3 and 5, and they are with their father, a tall, extremely handsome man who speaks good English, considering it's not his native tongue. He has come ON FOOT through SIX STATES with those babies, from a country far, far away. He's had no place to stay, that we know of, for that journey. I asked Joey, "How did he come to be here?" And Joey just pointed skyward.
       I gave the man some crayons and coloring-book pages for his babies. He was so grateful. Joey had cautioned me to approach the man gently because he has little trust for others. Sad, just so sad. If you don't take this story and reproach yourself for any pity parties you're holding, shame on you!
       So Mr. Bob and Joey got really, really busy back at the chicken sink, about halfway through lunch. They were well into their endeavors before all four of us in the kitchen realized that some of the turkeys Joey was unwrapping had spoiled—long ago… Mr. Bob put a plastic bag in a big trash can for the sour ones, as Joey riffled through them looking for one that he knew was fresh. Man, oh, man. I would have thrown ALL of them in the trash—no opening! I grabbed the air freshener can from the bathroom and sprayed the kitchen thoroughly. Mr. Bob propped open the back door… I hope it's over, and no germs were spread.
       The big box of yellow squash is indeed as rotten as I had predicted last week. At least this week it was thrown out.
       The shaky kid is gone. According to Joey, the kid and one of the administrators disagreed because the higher-up wanted to throw the kid out. So he's been put out.
       Angel came to the counter with a big smile and a report that this week is better than last, reminding me in a fatherly way that sometimes we're just going to feel less young. I told him I know about that; now it's our little secret (we're aging).
       Gate Keeper is well. Mr. Huggy was probably at church, and I have no news of him. Joey is still working toward his GED, and this week he expects to finish his current course and begin the writing part of his schooling. Math will come after that—and I will teach him to not say "maff." All in good time.
       I left some goodies for the adolescents—they were at church.
       PRAY for our babies, all of them.

BONJOUR!

       Sorry about last week—I had a cold, and I just stayed in bed.

       On Monday, my friend GG from France came to spend 10 days with us. GG and I are typesetting her dissertation—it's about the art that was spawned from the events of 911. We've been working very hard all week! Today, we took a "break" and went to the shelter to prepare and serve lunch.

       The Gate Keeper and Joey were so thrilled to meet a Frenchwoman… typical men that they are. GG and I quickly donned aprons and I demonstrated the use of the hand-washing sink… and gloves. She's a natural and picked up quickly on our routine.

       To my dismay, we needed to make two dozen sack lunches, but it's not so bad with help. For lunch, Joey said we were having "the usual." STILL there were no fresh vegetables to sauté (a box of squash aside), but Joey had gleaned a huge bag of soups for me—probably 15 cans of ready-to-eat soups, mostly pasta and chicken. I added two cans of refried beans to give the concoction body.

       With that, we were to prepare canned fruit and tossed salad. Yes, I took my knives!

       Joey baked two huge pans of biscuits.

       GG and I prepared a tuna salad for a person who must have gluten-free foods.

       It was one of the busiest Sundays I can remember there—or I am becoming so old that the work just feels hard. We prepared 23 plates for the pre-release, but only about 16 showed up. Eternally Angry Pre-release Woman wanted a tomato, and Joey gave her one. I offered to cut it up for her. Later, she smiled at me. Joey says, "She's coming around, Miss Joy."

       The two pre-release guys who have become favorites seek me out with many "Miss Joys!" I have no clue why they do that, but I like them too.

       Our Angel said his week hadn't been one of his best, but he smiled. His hair is growing long and his health appears improved. As always, he's just spit-spot clean.

       The shaky kid… well, I just didn't have time to look for him. We do have two children (adolescents) who will probably be with us for several months. I gave them baggies with cheese sticks, gum and candies. They were quiet. Their faces were expressionless. Perhaps we can become friends in time.

       GG enjoyed her experience at the shelter. They do not have the same sort of shelters in France, but she thinks she would like to find some volunteer work with the homeless in her town, when her schooling slows down. She has a lot to tell the folks back home!

       I gotta go. We're still on the dissertation trail—no rest for the weary.

      Oh, and the fresh veggies I've been asking for: there is a large box of yellow squash in the walk-in fridge—they won't last until next week. Joey didn't tell me about them until lunch was over, or I would have prepared them today. Because a knife and a peeler would be required to prepare them, I feel certain those wonderful squash will be in the trash soon. What a pity.