Tonight I served dinner to the homeless in the Downtown Eastside. Like so many things, I have always wanted to volunteer in a "soup kitchen", but never seemed to get around to it. Once again, thank you #52firsts.
I volunteered with the Union Gospel Mission. Although I don't personally feel drawn to the religious tilt the organization has, I can appreciate tapping into the depth of people, taking pause to contemplate and give appreciation, of giving people a beacon.
And all that aside, they also do amazing, tangible things. Every day. 365 days a year. This one location alone serves 300,000 meals a year! Not to mention the beds, hot showers, recovery programs and councilors available. Hundreds of people find food and shelter everyday.
Going into it, part of me was hoping to "put a face" to those people that I maybe unconsciously (or maybe not so unconsciously...who knows...) give a wide berth to as I pass them by on the street. I was looking to humanize it a little more for myself. The reality being, I don't think I ever spent time in a room with a homeless person, never mind engaged in any real conversation.
Fortunately I did get to meet Mark, a former addict and street-person who recently graduated from the UGM recovery program. And without getting into it too much, I was surprised how easily and quickly we found commonality; our journey to inner peace.
My great conversation with Mark aside, I had hoped for, and wish I could say that, I got the opportunity to look into the eyes of each person and smile as they passed through the dining hall. The reality was, I was too preoccupied with keeping our assembly line of steak topped dinner plates moving along. This is no laughing matter when you have 250 hungry people waiting for their meal after having lined up in the cold.
I can say though, that in those brief moments where I was able to quickly look up and sneak a peek, I was surprised. Surprised as much with my own ignorance as I was with what I saw in the crowd. There was of course, the stereotypical. But there were people who were just you're everyday kind of person.
The surprise really hit when I looked up and saw an 18 year old boy, full faced, clear eyed, handsome even. Normal if not a bit scruffy. He could have been my classmate in years passed. The son of one of my colleagues. And although I was projecting onto him a make-believe story, he amongst the 250 was the only one to make me feel sad. I guess in my mind I compared my life to what must have happened to him. Who knows what his circumstances were or are and it's unfair to assume, but it made me sad. And so, I just let that be. But my intellectual self had a moment of thanks for the life I have been blessed with. Amen. Dang it, these things seem to rub off!
Anyway, all around rewarding and enlightening experience... Interestingly, I learned a great deal more about myself and my ignorance than the people I was there to serve. I may have served a meal for 250, but it fueled the education of 1.
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