Soup Kitchen

22-03-2024

When Roger came in and took a seat at the table, he epitomised ‘don’t judge a book by its cover’: Quite late, wearing a Snoopy sweater, he looked in his mid forties, although claimed he was in his sixties and “Jesus was aging him backwards”.

I decided that helping with the church’s Dinner Club (soup kitchen) program would be a way to serve the community and ‘get out of my self’. So after a long day of work, I boarded the train, not home, but to the church. Serving the patrons of one particularly table was my duty. But what would they teach me? I had much to learn…

Roger was friends with Venessa, the happiest woman in the world (although I’m not sure which world she was on tonight). Constant smirks and bouts of laughter, like a school girl in the back row, giggling at nothing. And she got her money’s worth of food (it was a free meal). Taking seconds of each course, and eating like it was going out of style. Bless her, I’m sure she needed it.

Winnie and Helana, two older ladies, (friends from way back, Jamaican) at first found Roger’s antics quite amusing. Things took a change when he assured us things were okay because he had 'only had a small amount of heroine tonight'.

'So you’re an addict then?' One of them asked.

'No, but my friends are. I support them with my pension.'

'So you fuel their addiction?'

'No I just help where I can and…'

'And they give you some in return'

'Exactly. It's all give and take, isn't it.'

I soon ran out of topics to interject with in attempt to keep the conversation PG at least, so I busied myself with what I was there to do in the first place: serve and clear the dishes.

In between courses (a three course meal), I attempted to provide Winnie and Helana respite from Roger’s wild claims of visions and messages 'from the Lord', and other unmentionable, unsavoury conversation topics.

'I’m getting married to Barbara', seemed like a good line of discussion from Roger (for a change). Winnie went out on a limb and pursued: 'so when’s the wedding then?'

'Oh, I haven’t seen Barbara in 3 years!'

We weren’t sure if the good laugh we had was an appropriate response.

'Well she’s a prostitute isn’t she. Met her a while back. Had a vision, I’m gonna marry her.' 

All the while Venessa was having a whale of a time, enjoying La La land, and giggling every now and then.

When Roger began preaching to us about how we shouldn’t believe in Apostle Paul, or that we don’t have the Holy Spirit, I decided that inviting the minister to join our table might make the ladies at the table feel more comfortable. I did not intend to set him straight (I doubt that would be possible) but to steady the conversation - after all, I’d been putting out conversational spot fires between 10 year olds at school all day! He managed to help.

Roger did say I had a 'handsome boys' face'…so that’s something. Although 'thank you' was the wrong response from me: 'that wasn’t a compliment, just a fact'.

Hand drying the cutlery in the poky little kitchen afterwards, knackered, I reflected: Hopefully my table were on their way home (if they had one) safely, with full tummy’s and full hearts, and hopefully I’d see them again, even Roger. And just maybe, we might be as joyful as Venessa until then.

And My people shall be satisfied with My goodness, says the LORD.

Jeremiah 31:14