Another Homeless Breakfast

I joined Dee and the crew of Joyful Hands Ministries again this morning for their Saturday breakfast for the homeless in downtown Olympia.  I arrived just before 9:00 and they were already well into serving with a line that easily numbered thirty, and was growing.  No one in line seemed in a hurry, which would make sense if you had nowhere to go.  There was quiet talking in the line, no pushing or shoving, no impatience.

Today’s fare was similar to every week, differing, from what I could tell, in the kind of bread, peanut butter and jelly that was available.  Dee was busy at the gas stove heating flour tortillas over the burner.  She placed a toasted tortilla onto a paper plate, added a generous scoop of her breakfast casserole (potatoes, eggs, sausage, and what looked like biscuits on top) and ladled a thin, sausage, gravy over all.  I considered that generous helping of casserole, noticing she only had two enamel baking pans worth, and looked at the line which had not diminished.  Was this going to be enough?

In what seemed to be a reenactment of Christ with the fishes and loaves, the casserole just seemed to keep on giving as though self-replicating.  She ran out of it as the last person was served, and was still able to scrape some of what was left for a late comer.  I shook my head in amazement, but this seemed to be what Dee was all about, and I think the people that came here each Saturday to eat were aware of it.

While I was watching the line, the serving, and the interaction I couldn’t help but notice, like the last time I visited, how courteous these people were, not only to Dee and the Ministries folks, but to each other as well.  I found myself in the way several times, moved, and was met with, “Thank you, sir.”  You are so very welcomed, I would respond.  A few of the people nodded a wordless hello to me, or just smiled.  A few others came up to say hello, or comment on my Air Force Retired cap.  I don’t know what preconceptions I brought to the table.  As I always do, I tried just to come and observe. 

I asked a few of the patrons that were eating while leaning against phone poles, sitting on a curb, or just standing, how the food was.  They said it was tasty, it was hot, and it was food.  I suppose, for these folks, that says it all.

 

This was another Saturday for Dee and the folks.  Another homeless breakfast.  Or was it?  One has to wonder is they consider this home, and all of those around them are family.  They seem to know each other, look after each other, break bread and share a quiet meal.  Even the dogs were well behaved and owners made sure they kept out of the garbage bags.  This could have been a picnic in any middle class neighborhood. Does this mean they want to be in their situation?  I don't know.  Mentally some of them are left without a choice as they seem to have either been abandoned or forgotten by the system.  Others, younger mostly, seemed fit enough and would probably welcome work.  And there were those that time and the elements has been unkind to. 

My feet were getting cold through my tennis shoes.  I should have worn something warmer than my corduroy coat.  We were getting a cold, biting breeze coming in off the sound or down from the mountains.  I noticed they had laid out a tarp with socks and assorted clothing which was being picked through.  Of particular interest to several of the ladies were the socks.  I imagine they were probably doubling up on socks with as cold as it’s been at night.  It was probably going to get colder, especially at night.  I made a mental note to keep my eyes out for warm clothing or blankets to add to the pile of giveaways.

I called over to Dee as I was about to leave and told her it was educational, as always.  She came out from the cooking area to say goodbye and give me a hug.  I asked about Thanksgiving and we promised to stay in touch.  I also asked her to write down her story, and that of her group.  No one has ever done an article on her and Joyful Hands before.  I told her I’d love to give it a shot. 

 

We’ll see.