The gift of humanity

Yesterday I had the privilege of serving food to over 100 homeless men and women as a volunteer with a DC-area non-profit, Miriam’s Kitchen.  This non-profit has a truly tough role — they serve the chronically homeless.  In their own words,

Miriam’s Kitchen provides healthy, homemade meals and comprehensive case management services to homeless men and women in Washington, DC.

(The organization received a bit of well-deserved press earlier this year when First Lady Michelle Obama served as a volunteer.)

I worked in the housing industry for several years and know that chronic homelessness is often related to either substance abuse and/or mental illness.  So I wasn’t sure what to expect from the volunteer experience.  I left the organization in awe of the staff, the volunteers and the guests we served.

I was struck by the Miriam’s Kitchen culture of service with humanity and dignity. This underlying principle was present and obvious in the spirit of the staff and volunteers and the impeccable attention to detail.

My first assignment was to simply un-stack folding chairs and place them around the round tables, six or seven chairs to a table.  On each table, we placed a centerpiece of fresh cut flowers in a narrow vase, sunflowers and other bright yellow arrangements.  Nothing elaborate, but cheerful and dignified.

Staff and volunteers refer to the patrons they serve as their guests. We served not from the kitchen but from two rectangular tables in the corner of the dining room.  The tables were arranged into an L-shape — one table to hold beverages, the other to hold the food.  We poured orange juice into 60 or so sturdy plastic tumblers, each with a little ice.  We lined plates on the table pre-arranged with tuna, PB&J sandwiches, carrots with ranch dressings, crackers and quartered oranges.  The prep work was a thoughtful gesture, my fellow barista explained, because “no one likes to wait in line”.  Just as we were finishing, the guests began to arrive.

For the next 90 minutes, I poured coffee, filled and refilled glasses, handed plates, walked to and from the kitchen to replenish food and drinks and greeted guests.  Each person was polite and respectful and, above all, grateful for their daily bread.  As we served breakfast, another volunteer gave haircuts and trimmed beards in the far perimeter of the room. It was a busy afternoon for all of us, and I’d estimate that we served 150 or so guests.

When the crowd tapered off and the masses were fed, I had a chance to slow down and just take it all in…

I noticed the artwork on the walls – paintings created by the guests.  Part of Miriam’s magic is encouraging their constituents to express themselves through art (Art Therapy).

I noticed one guest who came up after eating and got his canvas and paintbrushes.  I watched from a distance as he completed his painting.  I could see a blue sky with billowy clouds over a body of water.  There were three ships sailing on the water; two of the boats had people rowing with oars.  I could see call-outs with words painted in them:  Wrath.  Lust.  Sloth.  Envy.  I recognized the words as the Seven Deadly Sins.

I suddenly wanted to know each person’s story.  How had they come to be homeless?  Did they have family?  Where did they sleep?  Were they ill?  Could I buy their portrait?!  I thought about the movie The Soloist based on the real life story of Nathaniel Ayers, a gifted cellist and former Julliard student who became homeless after suffering with schizophrenia.

My eyes  focused again on the talented artist to whom I had just served lunch, coffee and juice.  I admired his portrait.  And I wondered why his fascination with the Seven Deadly Sins.  What was this guest’s story?  Would I ever know?

I plan to volunteer once a month at Miriam’s Kitchen.  Something about the experience touched my soul.  Maybe it was the humanity of the experience.  Maybe it was that for two hours I could escape from my own life into a place far more worthy.  Maybe it was nice to serve a meal to someone other than my often unwilling “crumb snatchers”.  Certainly, it was the embodiment of the Golden Rule of which I remind my little ones everyday:

“Treat every human being just the way that you would want to be treated.  If you teach your child this Golden Rule, you will have left them with an estate of incalculable value.”

Mac Anderson, The Power of Attitude