When Drew and I got married, we decided to use our wedding as a way to reach out to others. Read this post to see how.
Well, life gets in the way, like it always does. It took us almost three years, but we did it. We finally followed through with the vision we had of providing dinner at Hope Community. My loving husband took care of all the details, including meal planning and shopping. We decided to serve the same meal we had at our wedding; chicken salad bar (with all the fixings), and hot dogs for the kids. We even had a sheet cake for our “wedding” cake and the chocolate fountain that had been at our reception.
I met Drew at Hope Community. He had gone to Costco to pick up the majority of the food items, and I had stopped at Publix for a few other things. He had given me directions, and I drove my car through unfamiliar streets, feeling a little uneasy as the surroundings looked nothing like my little white picket fence neighborhood. People began looking “shiftier” and I made a mental note to be sure to lock my car when I arrived.
Drew met me at the side door of the kitchen as I dropped off groceries and then I went back to the car to pick up the chocolate fountain. While I was walking, I was approached by a man looking for a few cents for bus fare. I am always uneasy when hit up for money. I want to help, and usually feel guilty if I don’t. But I know that they are probably not going to use the money for what they say they are. Drew has told me that he will give money to homeless guys and tell them, “It’s on your head if you use this to buy drugs!”
I ended up doing what I normally do, and mumbled something about not having anything to give. I avoided eye contact and made it back to the building. Guilt crept in, but I reminded myself that I am a skinny white girl that would easily be tackled to the ground and robbed in the time I tried to pull the 23 cents from my purse. Besides, I was here to feed the hungry, not give handouts.
I tried to shake that from my mind and began washing and chopping vegetables. Drew and I worked quickly together, chatting here and there. We’ve gotten pretty good at working together in the kitchen, and have worked a couple other times preparing meals for large groups. I know that he’s in charge (he handles the planning part so much better than I do) and I just follow his lead. He’s amazing in situations like this.
We got down to crunch time, with only thirty minutes left, when one of our friends came to help out. Fred finished cooking the chicken and hot dogs while we got to work on the rest of the salad bar. By this time, four more friends showed up, and we began to sweat a lot less. Soon, everything was prepared and ready. We opened the door and invited the residents in.
Homeless people make me nervous. I know they shouldn’t. They are just people, like me. But they’re people in a completely different walk of life than me, with a totally different life experience. What does sheltered, always-provided-for-me have to offer them? I decided that dinner was the best thing I could offer them and continued to work.
Drew had me set up the chocolate fountain and handed the big pot of steamy, melted chocolate to Rocky, who had shown up to help. Rocky followed me out to where the fountain was plugged in. We poured the chocolate in as neatly as we could. As that delicious melted goo began to flow, I heard gasps of delight behind me. I turned and saw a table of kids pointing at the fountain.
“Oooooo!!!” they shrieked.
We set the plate of fresh strawberries and cookies next to the fountain, and returned to the kitchen to see what else needed to be done. The residents were already being served. I stepped back and just watched for a few minutes, taking a few deep breaths while I could. Some of them looked so rejected and despondent. I knew these people had probably endured struggles that I could never understand.
I realized that my heart went out most to the kids. Hope Community is different in that it reaches out to homeless families. These kid had no choice in homelessness. They were thrust into it.
I continued to watch as residents took their plates. Some of them seemed disappointed that there was only salad, but then others were overjoyed at the prospect of fresh vegetables, rather than bagged salad. One man came back to get artichoke hearts because he had missed them the first time. He loved artichoke hearts and hadn’t had them in forever. Others were overjoyed at the fresh strawberries on the fondue table, and simply took strawberries with no chocolate.
We did not have an opportunity to sit and eat with the residents, as we had hoped. The dining room was packed and there simply were no free seats. Part of me was disappointed, and part of me was relieved. I was feeling so nervous and out of my comfort zone that I don’t know how much conversation I could have made.
When it came time for cleanup, the wedding cake was almost all gone, and there was a slew of kids surrounding the fountain. One little guy that couldn’t have been more than two and half was covered in chocolate. I think he took a swim in it. Sticky fingers and chocolate stained cheeks had to practically be torn away so we could clean up. That thing was definitely a huge hit.
At the end of the night, the director of Hope Community came to Drew and told him that this had been the best meal they had had in a long time. I was shocked to hear that. Apparently fresh cut veggies, strawberries and chocolate fondue go a long way. Having been fed in large groups many times while on tour with the African Children’s Choir, I knew they must get a lot (and I mean a lot) of spaghetti and lasagna. I was determined to give them something better than that.
We walked out that night exhausted, yet fulfilled. I so wish that I could do more for the homeless, but I know that the simple act of feeding them means so much. It may not feel like much, but taking away that gnawing hunger helps them to move forward in their lives. I think Drew put it best: “We may not have changed their world, but we changed their day.” I think that’s all we can ask for.
