Our gatekeeper was a man
who has served many Sundays in that position. He didn't want to give me eye
contact as he pressed the button to let me in. There's a pall over the whole staff
at the shelter, and I assumed Gatekeeper just wanted to keep his feelings
private. Still, I gave him a cheerful "good morning" and got one in
return.
In the kitchen were Miss
Lillian and Dean, a tall handsome fellow I've not met before. They were hard at
work. Until now, Dean has only worked part-time there and not in the
kitchen, but now he is full-time. Lillian was instructing him in the ways of our
kitchen, and Dean was learning fast.
They had already prepared a
pot of soup for lunch and a huge pan of hotdogs in buns. We deep fried chicken
patties and put those in buns. There were plates of leftovers for the homeless
residents, and I opened a #10 can of apples. We put several dozen pieces of
cake on the counter, and no one left hungry.
When the lunch and dinner
menus were fully prepared and/or well underway, Dean and I made up a dozen sack
lunches, two dozen pbj sacks for the street folks, and a half dozen breakfast
sacks. Sundays have always been Lillian's day off, but things have changed. Topping off her
longer hours, she had to get all those meals ready early so she could leave
before 1 o'clock; she had family responsibilities. She was happy to see me, and
to be honest, I was happy to help her in any way I could.
We have the same four children
we've had for several months, but today I got to meet one of the little twin girls.
Until now, they've not come to Sunday lunch when I was there. I wish you could
have seen that child's face and heard her gasp of delight when I handed her a
beanie bear. You'd have thought it was, well, a lot more than a little beanie
bear. Her sister is sick today, but I left a bear for her too.
The boys got gadgets and
candy, but if they delight in them, I don't see it. I think some of these
children (especially the boys) have learned to put on their manly faces for all
occasions—no crying, no laughing.
Our threesome team was
awesome. We had assembly lines going at every opportunity, and Miss Lillian played
backup, cleaning up after us and keeping us on task. She even dug a rubber mat
out of the back room for me to stand on! I was thrilled with that!
By 12:30, Dean and I had served
lunch to more than 50 guests. We had filled 45 plates for dinner, wrapped
them, and put them in the warming oven. I brought home a little bowl with pork
chop, rice, and gravy for myself—Miss Lillian can cook. Anyway, Lillian was
able to get away 30 minutes ahead of her deadline. I left Dean well prepared to serve
dinner. He'll only need to put the plates on the counter and check off the
diner's names.
Speaking of the diners, they are unaware that anything has changed; they
seemed extra sweet today, extra thankful, and quite happy overall. I don't
think it had a thing to do with how much they liked the food.
On leaving, I stopped at Gatekeeper's
window to mention how different today was. He agreed. We're rather
stuck in a hard place right now, with no help for it but to carry on. I thought
about never going back, but then I remembered: it's not about me—duh.
When I have news I can share,
I will. You can put out a prayer if you like—The Source will know exactly what
we need.
Two pitiful street dwellers sat on
plastic boxes in the contained foyer, curled over their own laps, surviving the
bitter cold. Their indomitable will to live always takes me by surprise.
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