For years I've complained about wanting to do something for someone, help someone, "get out of myself" so to speak. Last night was my opportunity. Our church helps at the Supper House every once in a while and I signed up. Unsure of what to expect, I knew it was something I was supposed to do. As I watched the church folks get things in order I was a little nervous, not knowing what to expect. They explained what my part was and we had time to get to know each other while we waited; we were finally prepared to meet the people.
Homeless and hungry began to come through the doors. Layered in coats and sweaters and steatshirts, they piled into the gynmasyum, turned dining room. Sitting at an empty spot at a table and we served them. Someone brought their plate of food and dessert, while others brought them their drinks of choice. I was on the drink detail. "Juice, milk, water or coffee?" Sometimes the answer was all of them, sometimes they wanted just a hot cup of coffee to warm their bones from the freezing cold temps outside. Many came in from being homeless, all came in seemingly...happy. They were gracious, thankful and polite. Some bowed their heads and prayed over their food before they ate.
I watched as they ate, drank and sometimes had conversation with their tablemates. Then, the saddest part of the night came when a gentleman asked, "Can we have second's?"
Of course, being new, I didn't know the rules, so I went to check.
"They can have extra bread and butter, that's it."
Sadly, I walked back with a piddly piece of bread and butter, knowing the man also wanted a piece of meat with his bread and said, "No seconds, only bread. I'm sorry."
He knew the drill and knew the answer before I got back to him but also knew it wouldn't hurt to ask, but my heart broke. I know my husband would have to have seconds. I understand they need to have enough to feed everyone and everyone needs to be equal, but if they are going to be fed, then can't we get them full?
As I reflect on the time I spent with them last evening, I hope I am forever changed. I pull out my housecoat and am warm. I toast my bread and think of their cold bread with their meal. I have a snack before bed, where will they sleep on these bitter cold nights of winter? How sad for them, how grateful I need to stay.
Homeless and hungry began to come through the doors. Layered in coats and sweaters and steatshirts, they piled into the gynmasyum, turned dining room. Sitting at an empty spot at a table and we served them. Someone brought their plate of food and dessert, while others brought them their drinks of choice. I was on the drink detail. "Juice, milk, water or coffee?" Sometimes the answer was all of them, sometimes they wanted just a hot cup of coffee to warm their bones from the freezing cold temps outside. Many came in from being homeless, all came in seemingly...happy. They were gracious, thankful and polite. Some bowed their heads and prayed over their food before they ate.
I watched as they ate, drank and sometimes had conversation with their tablemates. Then, the saddest part of the night came when a gentleman asked, "Can we have second's?"
Of course, being new, I didn't know the rules, so I went to check.
"They can have extra bread and butter, that's it."
Sadly, I walked back with a piddly piece of bread and butter, knowing the man also wanted a piece of meat with his bread and said, "No seconds, only bread. I'm sorry."
He knew the drill and knew the answer before I got back to him but also knew it wouldn't hurt to ask, but my heart broke. I know my husband would have to have seconds. I understand they need to have enough to feed everyone and everyone needs to be equal, but if they are going to be fed, then can't we get them full?
As I reflect on the time I spent with them last evening, I hope I am forever changed. I pull out my housecoat and am warm. I toast my bread and think of their cold bread with their meal. I have a snack before bed, where will they sleep on these bitter cold nights of winter? How sad for them, how grateful I need to stay.
I am now trying to think of how we could send them with some food as they leave. A packed mini snack for later, cheese and crackers, chips, apple, juice box? I don't know how it would work but, I'm thinking God has a plan...
If you agree please pray with me about this. We need to put feet to Jesus' heart.
If you agree please pray with me about this. We need to put feet to Jesus' heart.
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