Lost and Found Cafe

I stood in line with the others. In front of me, a family with four children under the age of five. Behind, an old man in a plaid shirt and a younger man, overweight, with baggy jeans and a loud voice. I could barely make out the words on the old man's hat. "Jesus to the Rescue." The letters were faded and several were covered with pins.

When the doors to the cafe opened, the crowd flooded in. Mothers sent their children to sit at tables while they waited in line. Others shoved tables together and shouted orders of where family members and friends should sit. There was definitely a shuffle to stake out territory. Most of the patrons of the Lost and Found Cafe are regulars. They come for a free hot meal and for some social time.

The server handed me a tray with a bowl of soup and a roll. The next server plopped some fruit salad in one of the tray compartments, and the next filled the two remaining compartments with ice cream and pie. Each gave me a big smile. Frank, the drink man, put a cup of hot tea in my free hand.

I saw a table with one free chair. "May I sit here?" I asked. An elderly man with a yellow handlebar moustache nodded yes. At first, I just listened as he and his wife chatted easily with the young mother and her two small boys. I assumed they were extended family the way they were telling stories on each other. No, not family. Next door neighbors in the trailer park. But they feel like family, like grandparents to those two boys. After several minutes, they pull me into the conversation. "Do you know what this boy did? He cut off his own hair. That's why he's bald. She-- the young mother-- is a stove installer." Her short fingernails were dirty; her Carharts jacket worn and faded. She indicated that this is a slow time of year for business. She's looking for a job with a cabinet shop, but what she really wants to do, what would really make her happy, is to build furniture.

"Do you come here often?" I asked.

"Every Tuesday and Thursday. And on Saturday mornings we can get a free pancake breakfast at the Church of Christ over by the KFC. It's a big help since we're on a fixed income."

The obesely overweight woman who sent her kids through line for three or four times, or the overdressed woman who rushed in at the last minute saying that the other soup kitchen in town ran out of salmon so she drove 10 miles to get to this free meal put a greedy face on what soup kitchens are all about. But the people I sat with and many others around the room really did need what was being offered-- a bowl of soup, a warm smile, a few minutes to feel special.