DÉJÀ VU

       The turkey is still strutting through the shelter kitchen. Today it was again used for a turkey-noodle soup (Doug said it tasted like egg-drop soup). On the side we served turkey salad (looks like chicken salad) and fruit cocktail. No one complained, though we did have a run on self-made PBJs.

       Tonight's plates are already made up, in lidded, take-out Styrofoam containers. Mr. A was dishing up the meals: a large spoonful of rice beside a huge heap of turkey chunks (all covered with gravy), a section filled with peas, one with sweet potato casserole, and all topped with a roll. It's healthy food, but I'm sick of looking at it and most thankful that I don't have to eat it. The folks depending on the shelter down the block from ours are said to be getting the dregs, compared to what we serve.

       Speaking of those other folks, I passed a dozen of them clustered on the sidewalk this morning. The weather has been spring-like for several days, but the street folks are carrying everything they own. One woman stopped to get a better grip on the armloads she was trying to keep with her. It's understandable that in winter one would keep one's goods in hand, but what do they do with those things in summer? Obviously, spring-like winter weather is inconvenient.

       I took 3 cans of sardines today. It's been a long time since I did that, and I was curious to see how they'd be received. The pre-release had no interest in them, but the resident homeless… they were interesting to watch. Those who wanted the sardines knew that this was a rare event, and they carefully, slowly, jumped on those plates, hoping  no one else would notice.

       If our deaf resident came to lunch, I missed him, as well as the blind boy and the kid with cerebral palsy, but taking their places was an older man with one good eye and a handsome young fellow who cheerfully said, "Oh! T-t-t-turkey, ag-g-gin!"

       Topping off the memorable folks was a young man who arrived just as the turkey salad ran out, so I offered to make him a turkey and cheese sandwich. He's very clean-cut and well spoken. He graciously accepted the sandwich. Then he asked about my hand: when does the bandage come off? Does it hurt? I was there 2 hours, and no one else asked about my hand, and yes, it hurts like crazy at times; I'll be bandaged in some fashion for weeks to come; and I'll have PT for months… but only he asked. So I said to Doug, "What a nice young man!" And Doug said, "Him? I hate that one! He's a snake!"

       Sadly, Doug is probably right; I'm only there on Sunday mornings; Doug gets them every day.

       Just one child came to lunch—and this week he finally brought me some drawings! He had drawn his pink PlayDoh, a stop light, himself, a tree surrounded by stars, a dinosaur, and a mystery creature. I gave him a pad of Crayola coloring paper and a Beanie leopard. His mom doesn't eat turkey (at all), so Mr. A grilled her some ham 'n cheese sandwiches. That would not happen at the other shelter…

       Late in the lunch period, Mr. Huggy strolled in and took a plate from the counter. He smiled weakly and nodded. He wasted no time eating his lunch, then disappeared. Doug says he's not allowed in the kitchen when residents are present (seeing as how he is now a resident—again). That worm just turns and turns.

SEND ME YOUR DEAF, YOUR BLIND, YOUR LAME

      Ten fingers, then two fingers. Ten, then two again—in case I didn't get it the first time. Oh, I love it when I can be the one who understands. I gave the man a twisted fist and two fingers (10 + 2), his bed number, 12. He stalled, then nodded, surprised. I gave him the "surprise" sign, and he smiled. He lowered a hand from his chin, "thank you."

       What a lovely gift for me!

       I served soup and pizza (and candies) for 2 hours, with one hand wrapped to a fare thee well in post-surgery bandages. Spilled a little. Nobody noticed. Now that I think about it, I could have been in a body cast, because it is understood that nothing can touch the lady behind the counter as harshly as life has touched those on the other side.

       Scanning the names chart, I noticed one "legally blind," and just then he was standing before me, one eye straight ahead, the other elsewhere. Young, beautiful and helpless for reasons I cannot see.

       Then an energetic young man limped to the counter, his cerebral palsy preceding him. And there were myriad others who just appeared afflicted in some nameless way. I don't recall the shelter having such an abundance of disabilities at once, but surely we have.

       Only one child came for lunch. My promised drawing was left at his other house (?); he'll bring it next time… He was pleased with the toys I gave him. This child is happy way down deep; he's whole and well loved.

       The kitchen crew was just right—Mr. A, Doug and me. My daughter arrived around 11:30 and helped for awhile, making sack lunches. Mr. A made the soup—turkey and noodle soup—lots of grease floating on top. Couldn't PAY me to eat it, but many asked for more, until the pot was emptied. I found a box of Halloween candies in the pantry, so each plate got candy. Tonight they're having pork chops.

      I sense that Doug and Mr. A are feeling a bit worn—this whole TURKEY SEASON is enough to do that to kitchen personnel. I am blessed to not be on that payroll.

One hand or two, the soup tastes the same.

QUIET CHAOS

      The kitchen was overflowing with projects when I arrived. Mr. A had the work table covered with sack-lunch items, Doug and Crazy were there, Dean was there, and our gatekeeper. Mr. A was filling sacks, but the others just seemed to be taking up a lot of space. The radio was on an odd station, the steamer was grinding loudly, and even floor space was limited. I didn't know where to start or what to do.

       Doug pointed to a pot he'd put on the stove and said, "Fill that pot with soup for the overflow." I've never been there at night when the overflow comes in, so I've no idea what that scene looks like. I did see full-blown winter plying the streets as I drove into town: several men were heading from downtown back to the day shelter behind ours. They had blankets, hiker backpacks, all their earthly belongings—just leaving one meal and heading toward another.

       Mr. A was grumbling that when he'd left yesterday, there were 29 sack lunches in the cooler for today; but, when he came in this morning, the lunches were gone. The food that was left for the "overflow" was still on the stove, untouched. This behavior has gone on for years, and it's depressing for those who work there. Before I could engage my brain, my mouth said, "Why don't they put in a nanny cam and catch these people?"

       Of course Crazy was all over that with, "You gonna buy one?" He doesn't plug in his brain very well either. A nanny cam would be the first thing stolen…

       So we made more sack lunches, as we always do. My pot of soup, they predict, will go untouched.

       For lunch we served hot dogs on buns and pre-fab potato salad. I, personally, would not eat any of it, but no one complained.

       The 9-year-old came to the counter with a huge grin. I gave him a yo-yo and a frog to go with his dragon. The 7-year-old got a bear and a yo-yo. He seemed pleased, but he was much more interested in telling that he'd been making pictures with his notebook and crayons. Doug already received two pictures, and I've been promised one for next week. Maybe I should get that child a sketch pad…

       Little Twooo Cute got a Fisher Price cow ball. When you pinch its nose, it vibrates all over the table top, making noises and mooing. The young 'un was not interested in touching the thing until he realized that after a few seconds it would stop. I'm sure that by now he's in charge of that cow.

       My daughter came by and helped while we were serving the homeless residents. There really wasn't much to do; we had far too many hands; and the meal, quite frankly, was pathetic. I don't know what Doug is making for dinner, but surely it's a far cry better than lunch.

       See you next week—God willing.

SNIPS & SNAILS & PUPPYDOG TAILS

       Three little boys have come to the shelter, each with a different family. They are 9 and 7 and twooo cute. The 9-year-old is celebrating his birthday today, so when I took the toys into the dining room and sought him out first, he got the green and purple dragon that he wanted, even though I had planned crayons and a notebook for him. When their eyes pop out, I'm a goner.

       The 7-year-old got the notebook and crayons. I didn't see any big thrill on his face, but I did tell him to make me a picture that I could put on the wall next week.

       Little Mister Twooo Cute got a dump truck that makes crackle noises. He's not talking, but rumor has it that he's a truck man.

       Oh, I have missed the children!

       So about the rest of the place. Doug opened the back door for me, Crazy snapped at me for not saying hello fast enough, and eventually Mr. A came to the kitchen from the office. Mr. A has a paying position there now! He still works his volunteer hours because he just can't stay away.

       Doug assigned me the soup, and today we had another pot of real stone soup. I started with varied and sundry canned goods, 2 cups of chicken chunks, and curly noodles. There were refried beans to give it body, and many cans of spaghetti sauce for the base. They ate it; no one complained; some folks asked for more. On the side we had pre-fab chicken salad, canned fruit salad and crackers. Nothing new under the sun.

       Miss Lillian still works a couple of days a week. The big scuttlebutt is that Mr. Huggy is back! He was said to have married and moved out of state. Now he's back, after facing some abuse charges, and he's living at the shelter! He's still "volunteering" and wearing a badge, and without doubt groping women when possible. He was duly "AT CHURCH" today, so I was spared the sight of him!

       Doug was away for 6 weeks, partly in hospital, and much of which I was away too, so we felt like we hadn't missed much with one another. I very much enjoyed my vacation! My friends Across the Pond are well, and I had opportunity to partake of wild boar! I brought home the recipe too! Now, if someone will donate such a beast to the shelter, I believe I can prepare it.

       In the meantime, I need more toys! BOY toys! Change is fun.

P.S. I was not prepared for a third child, as he'd only come in late last night; but my daughter drove into town and brought a toy for him. That gift was for me—as is she.