Miriam's Kitchen

If you ever want a boost of self-esteem and a healthy dose of humility, volunteer at a food kitchen.

I showed up at 6 a.m. this morning. Rolando, the guy in charge, gave me a crash course of the drink station operation and then as he walked off he said, "We're short-staffed today. So it's gonna be trial by fire for you."

Challenge accepted.

A few years ago this kind of thing would have made me uncomfortable, but somewhere along the line I've figured out that people are just people--even if they're homeless. And living in DC has definitely helped quell my fear of strangers. For the most part, people are good. There's really nothing to be afraid of.

At 6:30, hundreds of people flooded through the doors. Men, for the most part. Middle-aged, disheveled, hungry and thirsty men. But so friendly!

"Can you get me a cup of ice please, sweetheart?"
"You're pretty. You married? Why aren't you married?!"
"How do you say your name? Jen-na? How you doin' today Jenna?"
"Jenna. You have beautiful eyes."
"Are you doing okay? You sure you're doing okay?"

I had a great time with it. I did a lot of coffee- and juice-pouring, ice-scooping, and laughing. It was nice to be busy and it was certainly humbling to see the underside of this city. Towards the end, after the initial mad rush was over, I looked out over everyone sitting at the tables and thought, "Wow. These are God's children."

It was a sweet moment for me. These are the people who the world judges and ignores, who are labeled "misfits" and "castoffs," who have bleak pasts and probably bleak futures--but God loves them all the same.