Now how did they know? Hmm.
Doug planned pizza, fries and fruit for lunch. He and Mr. A. were in charge of baking the frozen pizzas, we shared dropping the fries close to serving time, and the fruit was just a matter of opening a #10 can. Otherwise, there was still much to do. We had to make 50 PBJs and pack them into 25 sacks with drinks, chips & cookies. We had a dozen breakfast bags to assemble, and there was not one lunch sack in the refrigerator. So there was plenty to do.
To my dismay, Crazy was the first one to greet me, and he stayed right there in that tiny kitchen far too long, I thought; but, he finally made his way to a table in the dining room where he read the paper and checked off names as our diners came to lunch.
Doug's been sick, and he worked toward lunch prep, but I often saw him straining to stay afloat, struggling with pain, and figuratively wiping his brow. Poor baby.
Mr. A. was the strongest among us and pulled the most weight.
Then… around 10:30 I saw a very familiar car pull into the back lot, next to mine. It was my daughter's. "Hey, Mr. A.!" I called, "come look at this!" Mr. A. did not rush to the window, but did say, "Oh, I've known about that for days."
My daughter and her roommate were getting out of the car with their arms loaded with cupcakes and a huge shopping bag! I'd been caught off guard again! If you hate surprises as much as I do, don't tell my daughter. THIS surprise, however, was by far her very best! She had brought three dozen cupcakes and as many adorable little gift boxes for the shelter residents. Each little box was lined with a bright paper, some rainbow-colored gum, a little glow stick or bracelet, and a handwritten note saying, "Never lose your glow."
She's her mother's daughter.
The girls wanted to stay and serve lunch, so they dashed out for breakfast and came back in time to serve, beginning with the pre-release. I find it amusing to watch my daughter greet those burley prisoners with, "Hey, Sweetie! Would you like a cupcake?" Truth be told, she taught me how to smile and greet all of "those people," because in the beginning I was lost as to how to greet them or even how to give them eye contact. Experience is a good thing.
When the resident homeless came in, of course I was on tenterhooks to give "my children" their goodies, but only the girl and one boy came for lunch. The other two boys were out on pass, but will be back later today, so I left their goodies with Mr. A.
The little girl was the first to arrive, and my daughter handed her a cupcake, then the little gift box. "I get TWO, Mommy!" she cried. "I get TWO!""No," I said, "you get three," handing her the bag of goodies I'd prepared: a yoyo, a book, some PlayDoh, some bubbles, and a very soft little teddy bear.
"Mommy!" she cried, "I get three!"
My daughter and her roommate were taking it in. The joy in watching a child's delight does not exist in the rest of nature.
Later, the girl came to the counter to explain that this little teddy bear was the softest thing she'd ever touched to her face. "I named her Fuzzy because she's so soft. She and Princess are going to be best friends!" (You may remember Princess from last week.)
Now the little boy was another story. When he came to the counter, all I wanted to know was whether or not he'd received a yoyo on a previous Sunday, because I wanted each boy to have one and I knew I'd gifted one a few weeks ago. So I asked him, "Did you get a yoyo?"
"I just got here," he said innocently.
"I know, Sweetie, but did you get a yoyo before?"
"No. I just now got here," he repeated.
"So I've never given you a yoyo?" I tried again. And, no, I hadn't. So he got the sack with the yoyo. The other boy will get a Frisbee when he comes in later. All's well. Baby's sack contains a Snuggles (fabric softener bear hand puppet), a book of baby's first words, and a Fisher Price Poppity Pop Dump Truck. I am fresh out of little trucks; it's time to go shopping!
Next week was going to be the start of vacation, but the healthcare system thought that having some repairs made would be in my best interest, so I'll probably be convalescing on Sunday. Vacation was rescheduled. Daughter plans to serve lunch in my stead, so the children needn't miss their goodies.
Oh, and Mr. A. says our little girl loves to "play" the piano. It really is time for me to bug the head honcho again; a piano needs keys that play—and a peddle.
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