Unblocking and Waitressing

See, I knew when I posted an “I have nothing left to say” post something would come to me!

I thought I’d write quickly about an evening I had on Thursday.

I found an interesting blog post written by Neal Taylor of Hand To The Plough.  I have been throwing around the idea of helping out in a soup kitchen for ages, but haven’t found anything that is both local to me (Eastern suburbs of Melbourne) and that captures me.  Vive Cafe is different.  It is about 20 minutes from my house and just down the road from where I lived for a few years.  It does the idea of soup kitchen differently.  Check out this article from the local newspaper to get a bit of a feel for what it’s all about.  When I first read that article I thought “yeah, sure – a sense of community, yada yada yada.”  Anybody who has read my blog before knows I am always immediately cynical  :-D

Anyway, so I sent off an email and got a very prompt response telling me that no experience is needed, just a willing heart, and to turn up on Thursday if I liked.  So on Thursday I took my youngest daughter (aged eight) and went along, expecting perhaps to help out but mostly just to sit on the sidelines and watch the “real” volunteers do their stuff.

I walked through the door ten minutes early to a surprisingly half-full dining room.  It seems people are so eager to get there they front up rather punctually!  The colour and warmth of the room were immediately apparent, and as I walked through the door the glow pulled me in.  I went to find somebody in charge, who smiled welcomingly, asked if I wanted to help and doled out aprons.  Feeling rather inexperienced I carefully passed out garlic bread and delicious-smelling minestrone.  My daughter had a fantastic time playing waitress – clearing tables and handing out plates with gusto.  I was amazed when I saw the people in the kitchen carefully ladling soup into the pristine white bowls.  Any slopped bits were carefully wiped away from the edges as they would be in any decent restaurant.  The meals were plated with love and care.

After the entrees were cleared away we began serving mains of fettuccine bolognese and salad.  While I was thinking “Hey, I’m getting the hang of this!” I was asked kindly by a vision-impaired lady if I could help her eat.  I checked with the lady in charge if that was OK (not wanting to step on anybody’s toes) and then returned and tried my best to feed her pasta without spilling too much down her front.  While she was eating we talked.  It seems she (in her wheelchair) and her friend take a train and then a bus to get to Vive every week.

But why would somebody go to all that trouble for a simple meal?  I found the answer all around me.  The laughter and conversation I could hear around the tables.  The hugs and pats on the back among the guests.  The wide, welcoming smiles of the volunteers.  It’s a place I want to be too.

What I found most striking was there is no “soup kitchen” atmosphere there.  Nobody has to line up, bowl in hand, for soup or bread to be doled out.  Instead people are served.  Really served.  You get the feeling if a volunteer was asked to stand on her head because it would make the evening more enjoyable for a guest she probably would.  A young man with a guitar played live music in the background – not twee, churchy music, but Coldplay and U2 and other music people actually like listening to.

By the time the chocolate mousse was passed around I was feeling completely at home.  Community in this place is a reality, not just a buzzword or a dream.  And how often do you get this kind of community among a bunch of marginalised and ostracised people?

It really is something special.

And on top of that, it is by far the best use of a church fellowship hall I have ever seen.  And I have been in a lot.

In the words of a certain overacting Terminator-come-Governor, I’ll be back.