FOUR DAYS UNTIL CHRISTMAS

      Doug is back on the job, and except for a nagging cough, he's feeling well enough to do his job and even kid around. He gave me the key to the pantry, and I made a large pot of soup. We had a good supply of chicken salad and plenty of canned fruit. Surprisingly, this was the first time I can remember that we did not use two whole containers of chicken salad.

       The pre-release group was in good spirits, but the homeless were a motley bunch, and only two children came in—the little boy and girl who've always been so cheerful and brightly thankful. Today, they stepped inside the dining room with their grandmother, but stayed by the door. The grandmother went back out. I asked the children if they wanted lunch, but they wouldn't speak to me. The boy made some silly arm gestures indicating that he was not willing to communicate normally. Finally, Grandma returned, but the children were sent to sit at a table while Grandma got coffee. Then she asked me for two bowls of fruit for the kids, but after 5 minutes, no one had come for the fruit. Finally, the whole group came to the counter. The little boy was rude, and I told him I was disappointed to see that his wonderful manners were missing. He continued to act silly. By the time he finally said "thank you," instead of grabbing for a pack of gum, his grandmother's parenting kicked in, and she told him, "No gum for you today!"

       When that group had left the counter, a homeless woman asked if she could have the gum. She has odd marks or scars all over her neck and a big pink lump on her cheek. She took a plate and sat down. Then she put her forehead in her hands and closed her eyes. She had a splitting sinus headache. I gave her some  pseudoephedrine.

       Then I caught Doug putting plastic wrap over a plate. "I can't believe I'm doing this!" he grumped. Doug likes to think of himself as Scrooge. But there he was, taking a plate to a man who was staying warm in the foyer. We knew we liked Doug…

       BOB came in today. He helped when it was needed, but mostly he just stood around and visited. I'm sure he's giving Doug a lot of help this afternoon with dinner prep.

       So the shelter was quiet today—boring, even. A lot of our folks found someplace else to be, and that's nice. God willing, see you in 2 weeks. Have a good holiday.

I WAS THERE

      Doug, on the other hand, is down with the real flu. He's been out since Thursday, and we don't expect him back by next Sunday. Not only that, but he got a flu shot, so we're assuming he's got that new strain… I was sorely tempted to not go today.

       The Sweet One was back in full swing, working 13-hour days this week, and he said I could make anything I wanted for lunch. We spent about 15 minutes trying the huge ring of several dozen keys on the pantry door, to no avail. So soup was out.

       Sweet One dug through the freezer and came out with hot dog nuggets, chicken nuggets, chicken tenders, and home fries. We put a cup of applesauce on the side and, as one diner said, it was a full-fat-fried meal. No complaints. One old boy towered above me at the counter and asked for just a plateful of the fries. I said, "You know, the mother in me is cringing." I'll bet he's hungry again by now.

       The kitchen, on the whole, was in sad shape. I did a lot of table and counter wiping, napkin-holder filling, coffee making, sink washing, and general duties that seldom need tending to on Sunday mornings. Sweet One assumes Miss Lillian will be holding down the fort tomorrow, and he says BOB seems to show up only when Doug is there.

       Today's children included a crawler, a toddler, two pre-schoolers, and one elementary (the little chub). My stash of goodies is fast running out. Oh, but you should have seen the toddler's face when I handed her a stuffed bear wearing a pink dress. She giggled and giggled with delight. Would that the world were so easily charmed.

       No one at the shelter has been reported with flu, so that was a relief. Sweet One said he would order anything I wanted for next week, and I gave it a lot of thought, but nothing came to mind. So we decided to make the soup and order chicken salad. It will have been three weeks since they've had that, and it's always well received. The pantry will be raided between now and then, in preparation for that meal. Sweet One also plans to ask for a key.

       Three of the pre-release volunteered to mop the dining room after lunch. I'm always surprised by their willingness to help, but Sweet One reminded me that they are horribly bored and enjoy the distraction.

       Last, I inquired about one of our homeless today. He was there last year, but not during summer. He's well dressed, very neat, well spoken, and appears quite intelligent. So I asked. Sweet One says the man is disabled because of a surgery he had for brain cancer. If you haven't had your thankful pill today, there you go.

THERE IN SPIRIT

       The Sunday Lady is housebound this week with some minor back damage and an ice pack. Did it to myself; nobody to blame.
        I did get a report from Doug: "You didn't miss nothin'; it was crazy." It certainly feels like I missed something! BOB didn't come. Wouldn't you know he'd miss the one day I couldn't go? But the Sweet One showed up just as the homeless group was coming in for their meal, and he served all their plates for Doug. Then he helped Doug make up all the dinner plates. It's good to know he has improved that much since his illness.
       For lunch, Doug made corn dogs, fries and fruit cocktail. He says everybody was happy with it, but they asked, "Where's the soup?" There were 22 pre-release and 30 h0meless. That's about as large a crowd as we've seen on a regular Sunday. Naturally, the very late got only a sack lunch and were quite disgruntled about it.
       Doug said there was a "houseful of young 'uns." They included all the children from last week, and some of their friends, but not their mothers. The pretty little chub and her sibling were at lunch, but today it has come to light that only her grandmother actually has a bed at our shelter. The rest of them sleep at the other shelter—the one that sends folks out during the day. That's why we often have the very desperate and cold huddled in our foyer, but these children are apparently coming to lunch on their grandmother's coattails. The chub is put upon to ask for many extras; we've seen children used like this before, and always by overweight adults.
       Maybe it does feel like I was there.