The Serving Line
It was a typical raining Portland evening. The line from where I stood, in the serving area, stretched out of sight all the way through the double doors. A busy night, Union Gospel Mission fed many people. Preoccupied in the redundancy of scooping the warm meal, I momentarily lost my guard. It was a continual request from those who received service that drew my attention. I would have not noticed the request if said once or twice, but I remember the voice of a rugged-looking man stating it again with his grey beard, soaked, covering his thin face.
Interested, I leaned forward to make sure I heard his humbled voice correctly, "Please don't give me too much - I don't want to waste it." Sure enough, his concern for the many others behind him seemed to echo what those before him said.
I thought to myself how it certainly wouldn't go to waste after all this concern for the next person. Although an exceptionally busy night, but sufficiently regulated, everyone ate thanks to the kind hearts of those who were served. I also received a healthy portion of warmth. This dish of kindness seemed better off served rather than wasted.
- Blessings Bestowed
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