For the past several years, my wife and I have been volunteering at the First United Methodist Church (aka First Church as it is literally the first church in Seattle) in downtown Seattle (right next to the Pacific Science Center) where they host a homeless breakfast on Sunday mornings for the past 20 years. There are roughly 10 volunteers each week helping cook and serve breakfast, as well as provide security.

Last month they asked if I would be the opener once a month. The opener arrives first, prepares the building for the volunteers to arrive, oversees the breakfast and the volunteers, and then takes inventory afterwards. Today was my first day doing this. It’s kind of wild to think that I was trusted with the keys and alarm codes to the oldest church in Seattle.

Today ran very smoothly and we served 135 guests.

One guest became very scared to leave the building, fearing that he would be attacked by people waiting for him outside. His fears may have some grounding in reality, but he was absolutely terrified even after everybody left (to the point of crying). After much persuasion, he agreed to walk to the bus stop as long as I walked with him and waiting with him.

As we started walking, I asked him where he was from and when he said Guatemala, I told him that I had lived in Venezuela and then we started talking in Spanish (my Spanish was once very good, but now it’s very poor as I never practice). Once we started talking in Spanish, he forgot all about his fears and we just casually talked and waited for the bus. When the bus came, he asked if I’d ride with him but I told him that I had to get back to the church to cleanup and to take inventory for next week. He seemed OK with that, and then got on the bus.

It meant that I got back from shared breakfast about 45 minutes late, but I’m glad that I was able to help ease a man’s terror (even if it might not have been entirely rational).