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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2293032-Pride
by Espero
Rated: E · Short Story · Cultural · #2293032
How a man overcame pride
"Let me make sure I heard you right," laughed Bruce. "You want to open a soup kitchen? Do you have any idea how much work that will be?"

"Of course, I know. This isn't something that just popped into my head at the spur of the moment. I've got it all planned out."

"Susie, let's sit down and talk about this."

Susie came out of the bedroom with a folder of papers. "I've found a building I can lease. It's an old restaurant but still has a good kitchen, lots of utensils, and quite a few tables and chairs. Not ritzy, but clean. I've talked to the local businesses, many would be happy to put up money or donate items monthly."

"I worry about your safety in that part of town, hon. I thought you were going to enjoy retirement?"

"I'm bored. Helping people will make me happy. You know I love cooking."

"Yes, I know." Bruce rubbed his stomach. "Look, if this is what you want, I'll help you whenever I can."

It didn't take long for Susie to get the soup kitchen ready. A fresh coat of paint, some posters on the windows, and friends to distribute them in the area. Now she was ready to start serving. She had a handful of volunteers who offered their services. She would start small, see how it went; then gradually increase the amount of food, if needed. The posters stated, 'serving 11 AM-2PM or until gone'. She didn't want to turn anyone away but couldn't afford to waste.

First day open: There was a line at the door. Susie was excited but had butterflies. It was slightly cold out, so she made chili and served it with homemade buttered hard rolls. The diners could have coffee, water or milk; all donated from the local shops.

Walking to the door, she held it open, "Welcome, come in, we are happy to see you. When you have your food, you may sit wherever you like."

Many of the diners walked in, eyes downcast, nodding their heads in acknowledgement but not looking at her. It broke her heart to see how their spirits had been crushed. Some smiled a weary smile that didn't really reach their eyes. There were a few children with women; she made a mental note to make lunch bags with a sandwich, apple, and cookie. These she would give to the children when they left, for a snack later.

Susie watched the food disappear and was pleasantly surprised to see that nothing had gone to waste; all bowls were empty. Some came by to say they enjoyed the food, she told them to return again.

Cleaning up the kitchen, she watched for Bruce to come. He had insisted on driving her, and she obliged, knowing how he worried.

"How did it go; sorry I couldn't make it for your first day."

"Splendid, and there's not a lick of food left. Can we make a quick stop at the store, I want to pick up some lunch bags and apples. You know the view from my window in the kitchen looks down Spencer Street where many of the homeless people sit. There was a man there who kept looking over at us but never came to eat. He was bearded and ragged looking; I wondered why he didn't come."

"Some, have too much pride, hon."

"Tomorrow, I'll take a lunch over to him, if he's still there."

"Listen, running the kitchen is one thing. I don't want you running the streets too."

"I won't be. For heaven's sake Bruce, it's across the street, I'll tell the women to watch me if you want."

In the morning, Susie looked out the window while making meat loaf and mashed potatoes. She made extra meat loaf, intending to slice some for sandwiches. The man was still there, huddled on a piece of cardboard, wrapped in some kind of shawl. How do they do it, she thought.

11 AM came and the line appeared longer than yesterday, Susie was glad she had made extra. Some had to wait a bit for tables. She made it a point to glance out the window. It seemed the man was still sitting there, no intention of coming over. That's it, she thought. I'm taking a plate over there, what could it hurt.

"Sir, I brought a plate over for you." He wouldn't look at her, so she laid the plate next to him, then turned. "I was wondering, well I thought I'd ask; if you ever wanted to join us over there in the morning, we sure could use help. I mean, you're welcome either way but think about it, OK."

He looked up at her. "You're asking for my help?"

"Only if it's something you would like to do. Do you cook at all?"

"No Madam, but I would help elsewhere if you're serious. You see, I don't like to just take a handout. I'm a little down on my luck right now."

"That would be fantastic. We're all volunteers, we can't pay you. We usually get there around 6 AM. Just knock on the side door and I'll let you in. Like I said, we appreciate the help."

"I don't expect to be paid; a warm meal is enough. I've been doing some odd jobs and should have enough saved for a flat soon. I lost my job due to a car accident and long recovery. Lost my flat as well.

Turns out that John was a veteran who had no family and lost everything in the blink of an eye. Just that one person reaching out to him made his world a little brighter. He became one of the soup kitchens best volunteers. Within a month, he was able to get himself a flat but still continued to help Susie out.

"I knew my instincts were right," she told Bruce. "I just had this feeling about John."


993 Words
{dropnote:"Author's Note"}
Writer's Cramp
Prompt: The View From My Window
For: March 28th, 2023
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2293032-Pride