Today was The Great Thanksgiving Banquet, a truly great event if just by sheer scale. Mission Possible’s Street Ministry hosts the meal every year, the Sunday before Thanksgiving. As the name implies, it’s feeding a Thanksgiving dinner to the homeless community. But… it’s kind of a complicated feat.
I get there about 8am and park in one of the slanted slots outside from underneath the bridge. Today, I’m technically volunteering along with the college ministry from my church. It’s bitingly cold for the first time this Austin fall—I say hi to a few men as I pass them, squeeze between some parked cars, and emerge in an aisle swarming with volunteers. I find the group college students and catch up with some of them while we wait for instructions.
Soon a large trailer pulls up in the aisle beyond the next row of cars. We head over, probably more than a hundred volunteers. A MP worker pulls up the back of the trailer, opening it up. Another worker joins him and they start rolling out the large white tables. The volunteers all form a scraggly line to the trailer, and the two men lower tables to the ground as the next pairs of volunteers take them, rolling them between cars to the largest aisle of the area. Some tables are rectangular—these have to be carried by two or three people per table over to the banquet area. Soon, another trailer shows up with folding chairs. As volunteers return from setting up tables, we return to the trailer area to pick up folding chairs, with three MP workers handing stacks of chairs to each volunteer. We bring those over and start setting up chairs, about eight to a table.
Soon, the banquet area is set up—standing from the back looking forward, it’s two columns of tables with a central aisle running all the way forward to a makeshift stage, where a standing mic and band instruments are set up.
Jon Rector, one of the lead staff at Mission Possible, is using a megaphone to direct us. He has us shift some chairs from the back forward to tables closer to the stage. After this is done, there isn’t anything for us to do until the food arrives from the MP community center, where it’s being prepared. So I break from the crowd and stroll over to the other side of the lot, where the regular free-groceries-and-toiletries line is going on.
It’s while I’m passing a concrete pillar halfway there that I notice ‘Deborah’ (story coming soon), trying to push herself towards the line in her wheelchair. I help her and talk to her for a little more than an hour. Then she asks me to bring her to the banquet area, so I push her over and bring her to a table closest to the front. She says she likes to listen to the music.
While I was talking with Deborah, the food had arrived and was being portioned out on plates from huge metal vats by volunteers, but it wasn’t being served yet. It looks like they had it covered, so I head back over towards the other side of the lot. I notice a man handing out free blankets and winter clothing, surrounded by men grasping for the items he holds out. Sitting next to that small crowd is a man, seemingly unfazed. I approach him; turns out his name is Joe. We talk for forty minutes or so.
He’s hungry, then, so I go back to check if the food is ready to be served. It’s about 11:40am by now—in the volunteer area, I see plastic tables covered with plates of food, ready to be served. Each plate is composed of several slices of turkey, a heap of green beans, a scoop of mashed sweet potatoes, and a colorful fruit salad. A volunteer tells me that we aren’t serving until after an MP worker prays for the meal in about ten minutes, so I go back and tell Joe. We both walk back to the banquet area together, finishing our conversation. He takes a seat at a table and I go to join the volunteers.
Finally a MP worker prays over us, blessing the food and the people about to eat it. Those of us who haven’t put on plastic gloves yet do so, and we start carrying out plates of food to the people seated in the banquet area, then out to those sitting on curbs, sidewalks, and parking spot bumpers throughout the parking lot. I bring a plate to Joe, smile at him when he thanks me.
There’s also a bunch of volunteers still preparing food, now cutting up pumpkin pies into tiny slices so there’s enough for everyone. When it looks like everyone in the area has been served, we go back and start bringing out plates of pie (I do kinda wish I could eat some of it 😉 ).
Finally, it appears that everyone has had food and pie. I make a trek all the way to the opposite corner of the lot, carrying a last plate of pie, and each person I meet has had some. So I bring it back and put it back on the table.
I notice Wilbur in the far back of the area and go over to say hello. This man seriously makes me so happy. He gives me a hug from his crutches, then introduces me to a very elderly lady in a wheelchair beside him—hair and skin the whitest white. She croaks kindly to me, pulls out a huge Ziploc bag, and pulls out a pastel pink slip of paper, a few foam stickers (a green cross, a blue cross, a green butterfly) stuck on the front. She hands it to me. On the back is a Bible verse scrawled in pen.
“Thank you!” I grin at her. She mumbles something. Wilbur tells me that she wants me to use it as a bookmark for my Bible. I thank her again. It’s so sweet.
Then another man taps me on the shoulder, introduces himself as Ramero (story coming soon!). All three of us talk for a while, before Wilbur and Betsy leave. Ramero and I talk for another hour before it’s time for me to go home.
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I heard from Pastor Art, the pastor at my church that oversees the college ministry (and is also good friends with some of the MP people), that MP was especially impressed that the Austin Chinese Church kids went and mingled with the homeless guests without MP even having to ask. I was actually really encouraged by the amount of conversation that was going on throughout the event. I continue to be encouraged by the openness lots of people have to sharing their stories with me, and with others… and I really feel like I helped contribute to a good thing today. Even though I really didn’t help much, haha… But again, I think conversation—giving the gift of time to people—is still so important, if only because Diane had so much to share (it felt like she hadn’t had the chance to tell many people about her joys and pains, and it tumbled out on me), and Joe had this hurt to get off his chest, and Ramero was just a joy.
More reflections to come. Thanks for reading!
—Isabella, 11/20/16
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