This entirely different world was the St. John's Hospice in Philadelphia. While the hospice is the temporary home of 52 residents trying to escape poverty and improve their lives, it is also a soup kitchen which serves lunch to homeless people who walk in from the streets. I worked in this soup kitchen as a sort of bus boy, refilling water and taking away empty trays. In about an hour and ten minutes, I saw over 290 hungry, homeless men be fed in a small cafeteria no bigger than the size of our garage.
In addition to serving as a bus boy, I also played the piano. Although notes would have helped, I played "Claire de Lune" and hymns I found in a hymnal for about 15 minutes. At one point, a homeless man came up to me and said that he was familiar with the tune, and he asked me to play it for him again. He really appreciated my playing and my company.
That was one thing that was evident in the personalities of the homeless - they were all very appreciative and thankful for our presence and help. One man asked to me to hold his bag for him, and he kept saying to me, "God Bless you son, thank you, thank you" with sincere gratitude.
One man whose spirit was especially uplifting was a worker who helped out in the soup kitchen. He had a Carolina Panthers cap on and long dread locks. The first time I encountered him was when I started playing the piano. I told him that I didn't have my notes with me, but he responded by saying something like, "it doesn't matter what you play or how good you play it...it doesn't matter what we think of it, as long as you know that God is listening, and God will always like it." He seemed to be very religious, as he spoke of God very frequently. Later, when a homeless man played hymns on the piano, this worker would sing and praise the Lord from the bottom of his heart. Soon a group had gathered around to join in the praise.
This was probably one of the most memorable and inspirational moments of my trip. I found it unbelievable that such poverty-stricken men, victims of hard times and bad luck, were still able to retain their faith in God. These people can look at their problems and their miserable situation and they can turn their backs on God, blaming Him for their poverty. But instead, their faith grows stronger, because they realize that they need God in order to survive and because they know that giving up on God would mean giving up any hope for progress or improvement. Immense courage is required for standing up against the challenges of poverty, and such courage was found in these admirable, faith-filled men.
After serving the homeless of Philadelphia with food and with companionship, we returned back to the Romero Center for one last reflection. Shades were closed, candles were lit, and we received wooden crosses.
For dinner we had a barbecue with young parishioners from St. Joesph's Church, located right next to the Romero Center. Afterwards, I talked for a long time with Tyler Hall, a senior at Loyola Blakefield whose service, ambitions, and leadership was very commendable.
As the day began to draw to a close, I met an eight year old boy named Nathan who belonged to St. Joseph's Church. He was a big Phillies, Eagles, and Flyers fan just like me. We played catch for a while, and he told me about his family and his adventures. Although he had two sisters, he said he had no brother, and I felt like my presence and my intent listening to his long stories helped to create a sense of brotherhood between us.
Our week of service has ended. As I go to bed with a roof over my head, I think of all those homeless men and where they are sleeping tonight.Tomorrow we drive back home to share our stories and to reveal this world of poverty that is too often sheltered from our eyes.
