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Loaves And Fishes Soup Kitchen: A Short Story

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On June 29, 2015 I visited the Loaves and Fishes soup kitchen, not as a volunteer but as a patron. Upon arriving (in my car) to the building under the overpass where most of the people who I’d be dining with may have possibly slept. I quickly noticed the line wrapped around the building with most standing others sitting, it seemed that most everyone knew each other, like a close knit family or a clique strictly based on a couple of standards. There were several bikes parked and chained along the side of the building, those who could stand were standing others were sitting on the ground everyone was talking to each other. The doors opened to the soup kitchen at 7:00 a.m. (that’s when I got out of my car) that’s when I felt comfortable enough. …show more content…

Rose left before the meal, but she took an apple with her. This upset me upset me at first, because I helped her inside. For some reason I felt she at least owed me to stay through breakfast. Why would she owe me anything, who am I? Someone who has greatly misjudged their role and who has forgotten what it is like to be in need. I was homeless once, but I’ve never been knocked completely down, always have had somewhere to shower, food to eat, and an out of some sort. Because of this I placed myself in a privileged minority group. Yes, I still faced discrimination, but I was higher in the hierarchy than others so I felt “better” about myself. Once she left, remaining at the wobbly table was myself and an older gentleman .Larry was his name, he fixed the table so that our food wouldn’t slide off the table. I shared my eggs with him since I don’t like eggs and didn’t want to throw them away. He made me feel comfortable during the thirty minutes I was there. I wasn’t uncomfortable at the looks I received after getting out of a car ( I wasn’t the only one who drove), nor because it was noticeable that I’m not homeless, but because in a way I felt better than this group because of my place in society, when in reality I could be back in their place at any moment. It shocked me how humbling this experience was for me also at my own thoughts. I got angry when one gentleman became irate when someone else got more grits than him, when he had already received two portions. How could he treat people who donated their time to do something for the community in this manner? But just like everyone else I stayed out of it and ate my breakfast, didn’t want any trouble for myself once finished my

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