same

The five contently munch on waffles and cereal at the kitchen table as I leave and make my way uptown for a few hours. Entering the kitchen of the cafe, I find my companion already putting day old donuts and bagels onto plates. She is flying through the kitchen, stopping to say good morning and giving me a quick hug. I can never go faster than she does. The pots of coffee ready to be poured.  Our customers stand outside waiting to come in. Looking impatiently in the windows as we move through the kitchen preparing to open.

Hot water is making mountains of bubbles in the plastic wash tub.  We'll wash the same cups and spoons multiple times this morning.  Refill after refill.  Bottomless cups of coffee.  The sound of the cups being filled a familiar sound even as this place has become familiar. Pouring just the right amount.  Can I have a sweetener?  Can I have a plastic bag?  Do you have any bread? Small notes are written on brightly coloured tabs of paper and passed to me through a large window above the counter I stand behind.  Bread.  Toilet paper.  Sugar.  Margarine.  Small grocery lists.  Snippets of the contents of my own larger one, scribbled hastily, ensuring a small need has been met.

Some are talkative and I know their names.  They smile and politely ask me for coffee. Others come to the window and don't make eye contact.  I try to respect that, offering only a smile in their peripheral view.  I oblige and fill their cups.  There is one in particular that stands in the window and taps his cup on the counter. Loudly. He says, "Coffee!".  I have no idea how old he is, somewhere beyond 50.  He has a wild beard and the scent of tobacco is strong on him, his fingers stained with nicotine.  I know his name and I call him by it. There is something about him that reminds me of a boy.  He is young in some ways and much older in others. I say, "Coffee, coffee, coffee!" in reply.  Yup.  He downs that cup and heads outside for another smoke. He'll be back.  Two or three times more.  Each time, tapping his cup in the same manner.

I enjoy being here.  Most of the time.  Some days I'll show up with a chip on my shoulder. Annoyed that I have made this commitment when honestly, I'd sooner stay at home.  Everyday the mindset to move beyond the outer limits of my own life and to consciously step into someone else's is a choice I must make.  A submission to Someone who calls me to love others as I love myself. These others. The very same as the others I have dwelling under my own roof.  We are all the same, even if our stories are varied and our journeys miles apart.  I'm discovering one choice to take a step, leads to another......

Delight yourself in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart.

Psalm 37:4