Meals are an enjoyable experience when shared and nothing says sharing like St. John’s Kitchen
By Andrew Coppolino
Published in Good Work News, December 2005
This article was originally published in KW Record, October 2005
Last week, I visited a dining room of a different sort. I volunteered at the St. John’s Kitchen at the corner of Duke and Water streets in downtown Kitchener and helped out with their Thanksgiving dinner. The kitchen, and the many volunteers working there, served nearly 500 turkey dinners to appreciative patrons for whom finding a hot meal is difficult.
I am lucky to be able to dine at the finest restaurants in our region on a regular basis and write about my experiences. But I was just as fortunate to be able to meet some wonderful volunteers who help make St. John’s Kitchen a place where food and community are available for people in need of a meal.
I met Norm Maier, a retired public school teacher from Kitchener who’s been volunteering once a week at St. John’s for three years: He’s there for the people and is dedicated to creating this communal atmosphere.
“I believe everybody has the right to food and the right to eat, so I help by volunteering. I enjoy the people.” The dinner that Maier was helping prepare was no different from a meal we might get at a local restaurant. It was no different from the meal we had at home this past Thanksgiving week-end: roast turkey, creamy mashed potatoes, broccoli, stuffing, gravy cranberries, ice cream and pumpkin pie – it all tasted great.
In the three or so hours I was at St. John’s, I unloaded trucks delivering groceries, bused tables, ran food out to the two buffet-style counters, spooned out the cranberries, ladled out the gravy and served up the buns and rolls.
But the taste of the food wasn’t what hit home for me: it was the sense of community that I got.
When people eat at restaurants, they are sharing a communal experience both with their companions and the other patrons around them. It begins with food, but it is really about the shared experience. This very experience – though quite different in degree if not kind – was present at St. John’s.
At the tables in the St. John’s church gym, friends and acquaintances sat together to recognize the time of the season. People chatted and told stories in small groups, though a few sat alone to eat by themselves. A table of four young men played cards after dessert. I and several of the patrons joked about falling asleep after eating plates of turkey and mashed potatoes and gravy.
There’s little distinction between patrons, volunteers, and staff at St. John’s Kitchen – there’s little distinction where the goal is to provide a bit of a refuge in a friendly no-questions-asked environment, prepare some well-cooked food, and serve it to people in need of a meal. There’s little distinction between those who have been cooking and cleaning up, and those folks who are visiting as they all sit down together to eat.
And who are the patrons sharing in this communal experience? They vary in age, and the split seems about even in gender. I chatted with a twenty-some-thing young man with his two kids whom he was wiping down after their dinner. At another table, while I cleared their plates, I spoke with new Canadians struggling with English and listening to me intently. They held up a tattered piece of the Yellow Pages that they were trying to decipher, and I did my best to figure out what they needed.
There were patrons of various socio-economic backgrounds; there were patrons with issues of mental health. And there was one woman who waited for me courteously in her wheelchair as I carried a couple of boxes past her to the storage area. One solitary diner asked me if he could bring food back to his buddy who was sick in bed. He waited in the long line-up a second time and had a hearty meal packed in a take-away container.
During all of this, food was the focus of this community but always with laughter and companionship. Etymologically, a companion is one with whom you break bread; it is someone to share a meal with. Dining out, when all is said and done, is about this companionship even more than it is about the food.
But the special kind of companionship and food that is important at places like St. John’s Kitchen can’t happen without the entire community’s help.
The food banks in Cambridge, Guelph, and Kitchener help supply food to tens of thousands of individuals and families all year long, but they need your ongoing help.
As winter approaches and so to the holiday season, do whatever you can to ensure that there’s lots of good food for the region’s food banks and community kitchens like St. John’s. Donate your time or donate financially to help ensure that nutritious meals and a vital sense of community are always there.
Everyone deserves that.
