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The Reward of Giving Back

Guideposts blogger Julia Attaway on how her tween son learned to appreciate helping others while working at Holy Apostles soup kitchen in New York.

The reward of helping others at Holy Apostle soup kitchen in New York
Credit: Getty Images/iStockphoto
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A couple of weeks ago my 12 year old was acting like, uh, a tween. He was irritable and irritating, as well as more than a little focused on his own needs and wants

“I think you need an attitude adjustment,” I commented drily, and sat down at my laptop to look something up. “Here, watch this.”

I handed Stephen my computer, which I’d opened to the web site for Holy Apostles soup kitchen. The small church behind Penn Station in New York City serves more than a 1000 meals a day. My son watched the soup kitchen’s video, and was notably impressed. “That’s pretty cool,” he said.

“Set up an account and sign us up to volunteer,” I replied. So he did.

Click here to find out how you can help others.

This morning was the day we were scheduled to work. We arrived at 10 a.m., received our job assignments at 10:15, and shortly after that the doors opened. The next two hours were a blur of activity.

I was a rice scooper on one of the food assembly lines, and was pleased to see that the meal was of good quality, healthy and colorful. Stephen’s task was to distribute toiletries and haircut vouchers to those who requested them. A pianist provided background music. One crew of volunteers kept the tables clean and wiped, while another crew made sure trays were emptied and trash removed. It all moved smoothly.

The clients streamed in. There were bike messengers and low-income working folk, who I suspect earn only enough to choose between paying for rent and food. There were unshowered homeless people, confused new immigrants who spoke halting English, and mildly embarrassed professionals, people trying to get back on their feet after being laid off.

One woman said it was her 85th birthday, and she (and the food supervisor) did a little dance to celebrate. Sometimes there is nothing like a slice of real New York–at its weakest and greatest–to make you feel truly alive.

“One guy said he needed a razor because he had a job interview this afternoon!” Stephen reported happily, as we headed home. “And do you know what the most-requested item was? Socks. I wouldn’t have thought that socks were a big deal, but they are.”

I asked my son if he was glad we’d come. “Yes! Absolutely!” he replied, “I never really got that business about it’s better to give than receive before, but wow, I feel really good about myself right now!”

A few moments later he added, “Mom? Can we come back?”

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