My Day at Martha's Kitchen
By Joe Miga

During the winter of 2000, I went along with several members of the Evangelical Presbyterian Church youth group to Martha's Kitchen, a place where homeless or otherwise needy people are served meals on weekends. We met at the church before we left for the kitchen, and Cory Glover, our youth minister told us what we might expect over there. He encouraged us to visit with our guests and listen to their stories, and then we had a prayer time. After that, we left for Longview.

We arrived at Martha's Kitchen around 10 a.m., and Cory assigned us certain tasks to prepare for the people who would come to eat lunch at noon. These preparations included categorizing and storing cans of food, wrapping silverware, heating up leftover spaghetti, and making salad and bread. I was given the job of making tea. While I was waiting for the water to boil, I assisted in the wrapping of silverware. After the tea was finished, I found that there wasn't much else for me to do, so somebody suggested that a few of us go outside and talk to some of the people waiting for lunch.

My brother Jesse and I went out there and spoke with two homeless men named Ronnie and Tex. They said they were both roofers, but they were out of work for the time being and they needed to get jobs. During our conversation, I was stricken by how snug and secure I often feel, knowing that all my basic needs are going to be fulfilled every day. I always have a place to sleep, food to eat, nice clothes to wear, and a lot of luxuries besides. And here Tex was saying that he needed to sell his radio to get money so he could rent a place to sleep for the night. It made me feel strange talking to people who had to live just one day at a time, not always knowing where their next meal is coming from.

Tex had to leave for work before we opened for lunch, but Ronnie stayed to eat. I didn't get a chance to talk to him again, since I was busy serving food and talking with our other patrons. During my time there, I held a brief conversation with an elderly man who I didn't understand very well. I did find out that he had been coming for meals at the kitchen for quite a while. Our discussion made me wonder how I might end up when I am well on in years. One never can really tell. Jesse and I talked with another elderly man who seemed a little disgruntled with life. He said that he was in his 60s, and that he didn't expect anything else out of life but death. We talked with him about the afterlife and tried to share the gospel with him, but he was not very receptive. After that, we just made small talk about the "Good Old Days" and politics.

Around one or 2 p.m., the lines started diminishing, and we began closing up the kitchen. Everyone pitched in to wash dishes, put away food, sweep floors, wipe off counters, and stack chairs. We finished in about 30 minutes, and then we headed back to the church.

I think the biggest lesson I learned from working at Martha's Kitchen was to be grateful for what I have, and to be a good steward with my possessions. I realized how superfluous many possessions are, and how futile the accumulation of wealth is. It was like a good Ecclesiastical kick in the pants. I hope I don't forget what I learned any time soon.