Earlier this morning, a group of young ladies arrived in the parish hall and spent three hours or so preparing various dishes which were eventually shared among all the participants: the proceeds taken home to feed their families. Each one of the participants comes through our doors, bringing with them a mixture of stories and all finding within our walls a place where they are accepted ... no matter what.
These are wonderful ladies. They're exceptionally capable of reading people, of perceiving sources of trust and love, and quick to befriend those who they know want only the best for them.
I happened to be present for the morning today, and it wasn't long before I'd found my partner, a young lady who I'd had the pleasure to cook with in this context once before. Today, we had changed locations within the kitchen and instead of standing over the stove, we were gathered around one of the work tables, making cinnamon buns (from scratch). When we began, my partner was more than a little reticent. She recounted memories of her grandmother who used to make these delicacies, but her unease because although she's a good cook, she rarely bakes. Well, within a few hours, she had sprouted new wings, found new confidence and began (at least) to believe that she can indeed make the buns 'almost' as well as her grandmother.
In just a few hours' time, six dozen of them were created, each one formed, raised and baked with care. They all left the building, and made their way to people's homes: food for their stomachs, memories for others of good times with those they love, and a step along the way for others who have begun to rebuild their confidence.
It's amazing what a little bit of sweet bread can do.
These are wonderful ladies. They're exceptionally capable of reading people, of perceiving sources of trust and love, and quick to befriend those who they know want only the best for them.
I happened to be present for the morning today, and it wasn't long before I'd found my partner, a young lady who I'd had the pleasure to cook with in this context once before. Today, we had changed locations within the kitchen and instead of standing over the stove, we were gathered around one of the work tables, making cinnamon buns (from scratch). When we began, my partner was more than a little reticent. She recounted memories of her grandmother who used to make these delicacies, but her unease because although she's a good cook, she rarely bakes. Well, within a few hours, she had sprouted new wings, found new confidence and began (at least) to believe that she can indeed make the buns 'almost' as well as her grandmother.
In just a few hours' time, six dozen of them were created, each one formed, raised and baked with care. They all left the building, and made their way to people's homes: food for their stomachs, memories for others of good times with those they love, and a step along the way for others who have begun to rebuild their confidence.
It's amazing what a little bit of sweet bread can do.
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