Loaves & Fishes and Gloria

There came a time when my Mom thought it would be a good idea for me to go out into the world and volunteer. She said it would be a great thing to put on a college application. It sounded like fun to me, so I didn't mind calling the number she found in the paper for a soup kitchen looking for help. I told the woman that answered that I was available anytime after school. She didn't seem to care that I was volunteering and she almost seemed annoyed that I was only 14. I still showed up on Tuesday afternoon. When I arrived, I met everyone there. The youngest person there, other than me, was about 50.

There was a lady that gave me a tour on my first day. She showed me the storeroom and introduced me to the other Tuesday workers. She explained to me that I was now part of the Tuesday crew, if I didn't mind and most of the people there stared at me without being too friendly. They were peeling potatoes, washing dishes and making gravy. I didn't see anywhere I could jump in. And then Gloria showed up.

Gloria was an older woman who walked with a cane. She was the director of Loaves & Fishes, there at St. Andrew's in Enfield, CT. And direct, is exactly how I would describe her personality. She directed the volunteer staff at Loaves & Fishes like she probably had done for years. There was no hesitating when it came to criticism. If a volunteer had not peeled and cut the potatoes properly, she would have no issues letting them know they had wasted some precious food by using a knife instead of a peeler. She was not well-liked by the volunteers there and they always complained about her behind her back.

She seemed like the only person who was happy to see someone new standing in the kitchen. She asked if I could help her with a few things in the car, which turned out to be a donation she picked up from the local grocery. Gigantic cans of tomatoes. Cases of them. I carried them to the storeroom door, but had to wait for her to bring the key. The storeroom was basically a museum of food. Most things in there were donated and they are cans of things people have in their pantry and don't use. Aisles and aisles of almost useless foods. Foods that don't go with anything. Cranberry Sauce. Black Olives. Horseradish Sauce. Fruit Cocktail. Evaporated Milk. Try making a dinner from that list.

On my first night, the staff made Creamed Turkey over mashed potatoes. One of the churchgoers had managed to secure a few dozen turkeys from a local store and they agreed to stretch the turkeys out over a few days. They would do this by cooking it on the creamed turkey Tuesday, the pot pie Wednesday and the traditional turkey dinner Thursday. I love turkey dinner and Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday, so I offered to come in on Thursday. Just when I thought my first night would be meeting everyone and getting the tour, Gloria asked if I could be responsible for dessert. I asked her, "What's for dessert?" She said, "I thought I asked you to be responsible." Ouch.

I went back to the storeroom to see if there was something like a brownie mix. No such luck. I started to use my imagination. I saw a generic version of Bisquick with a cherry pie on the front of the box. I saw cans of peaches. And there were fresh strawberries sitting on the counter in the kitchen. Everyone watched me while I mixed it up. I honestly didn't know what I was doing, but figured if I messed it up too much, someone would have said something. And so there you have it, peach/strawberry cobbler for a hundred people.

That was the night that I won over Gloria's heart and soon I was working at the kitchen a few times a week. When I was not on for a shift in the kitchen, Gloria would take me grocery shopping. People donated money and we would have to go spend it. I always thought it was fun that we didn't have to pay tax. Gloria also got to park in the handicap parking spaces. As odd as it could be for a 14 year old boy to befriend a woman in her 60's, I thoroughly enjoyed Gloria's company and I think I made her laugh and forget her pain. None of the other volunteers liked her very much. She always fought for the hungry people coming in to eat while the volunteers were very politically motivated. Most were there doing something for their image. Like I had originally shown up there for. Eventually I was there because I got to know the hungry kids and hungry families that came in to eat our food. I knew if I wasn't there, nobody would make peach/strawberry cobbler.

My parents dropped me off on Thanksgiving for a couple of years in a row and I served the best dinner. Gloria always made sure that there was the traditional Thanksgiving dinner with all of the bells and whistles. It was also the one time that she allowed everyone that came for a meal to go through the line as many times as they wished. She said Thanksgiving is the one day a year that everyone deserved to be full. Some of the men would come through three or four times. We never ran out of food on Thanksgiving. Gloria would stock up food for months to be sure there was enough in our freezers.

We decorated the seating area for Christmas and there was a Christmas tree that the children could decorate. Gloria would set up a table with all of the ornaments and let the kids pick their favorite ornament. Most of them did not have Christmas at home, so we were the closest they would come. I would give them candy canes and we would bring them little gifts with their names on them and put them under the tree. On Christmas, they would come in and never expected to get a gift. Sometimes the gifts were from the Dollar Store but they always had the most amazing smiles on their faces when they opened them up. Every one of those kids had the best manners and they always wrote a little thank you note to the church for providing them food and gifts. They would draw little pictures of me, of Gloria and some of the other volunteers. We would hang them on the tree as well.

When Thanksgiving rolls around, I always remember my times at Loaves & Fishes. I remember pushing Gloria's shopping cart, sitting with the kids at the kids tables and hearing their stories. I often wonder how many of those children have gotten through school and are out on their own. I wonder if they have families of their own now. I also wonder about Gloria. I tried to find her a few years ago with no luck, but my prayers are always with her.