I made a new friend today. His name is Cory. I met him at the soup kitchen at St. Benedict's. "I come here every other day to help out. We used to be homeless and shi... homeless and stuff... so me and my mom came here a lot." He's a cool kid, and not a lot different from the other kids who frequent the centre--not to help out, but have meals served to them. As I looked around the room, I was surprised to see so many kids subsisting on the free food. And these were normal kids. Had I seen them on the street, I would have guessed a suburban upbringing for many of them. Yet, here they were, herded through some food line in the middle of downtown, eating some odd, soggy pasta concoction. But Cory took it all in stride as he zoomed around the room refilling cups of lemonade and wiping tables. I wanted to ask, Does it feel odd to serve people who were once your peers?

Then as the servers themselves turned to the tables to share a meal, I had my answer. They were directed to sit amongst the customers of the joint, using the same grimy chairs and eating from the same plastic summer-camp trays. As I continued to serve beverages to the tables, my mind conflated the servers and those served into one homogeneous crowd. We're all alike in the end, each deserving the same respect and courtesy, I realized. It doesn't matter whom I serve. Helping out at St. Ben's was a good experience. It's shown me that you don't need a lot to be able to give, and that the opportunity to give is never further away than your neighbour. Also, that if I'm ever in a bind, there's free food at State and 9th six days a week.