Unexpected Donation
Walking into the foul smelling building, I was ready for my weekly routine. As I placed my hair net around my head, I entered the kitchen bracing myself for another hectic Monday. “Looks like it is going to be a good day,” Chef Mike says to me. “You always say that!” I replied with a smile. He was cutting up chicken with a huge knife making my heart jump every time he got close to his finger. “We have chicken again today?” I asked. “Yes, my dear. Do you see anything else?” I gave a slight smile wishing that statement was not true and hoping that one day I could make it false.
Volunteering at a soup kitchen is a new experience every day, aside from the food. Our food donations are rather scarce so unfortunately we do not supply very much variety. The recipients of the food, however, do not seem to mind for they are grateful for whatever they receive on their plates. I am happy that I can satisfy them while at the same time feeling guilty. “These people go through enough hardships; they should at least have something to spice up their lives,” I would say to Chef Mike. “Darling, you and I both wish we could do something. Our supply is just too low,” he finished his statement while placing his hand on my shoulder for comfort. I tied my apron around my waist and reached for the broccoli. As I washed the green bunches under running water, my mind began to wonder. “How am I going to be able to give back to this kitchen after my years of school are completed and I am put out into the demanding work field? Not only are they lacking in food, the help around here is not the most abundant,” I completed this thought with a silent sigh and began my next task.
The mid-day continued just like any other. As familiar faces filed in, I was told the daily joke by Joe and the latest weather update by Sue. The radiant glow reflecting off their smiles as they told their exciting accounts, made my worries disappear. I placed the chicken and the sides of broccoli and rice on each plate wishing each man and woman a good day. I smiled as conversation began to fill the dining area. As I walked around to clean up any plates or napkins left behind, compliments were asked to be given to the chef for the wonderful meal they had just received. This reminded me how grateful each individual was for the simple meal we could provide. I tossed the used plates and headed through the swinging door to the kitchen.
Recalling that vivid memory I was blessed with ten years ago has made this decision effortless. When my boss handed me my Christmas bonus for the “stand-out” job I have done in the past year, I was awestricken. The check was made out for five-thousand dollars in my name. “I know I worked hard, but do I really deserve this?” I silently asked myself. Maybe I did deserve it, but in that moment I knew a place that deserved it more. It was a surprisingly warm Monday morning when Chef Mike walked out to the mailbox. I would have given anything to see the expression on his face when he opened up that white envelope.
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