Reality Check: My Experience Volunteering At a Soup Kitchen

It is something I have always thought about doing, but that is all it was; a thought. With the brutal winter in full swing I finally figured it was time. So I started to Google soup kitchens in Philadelphia and I came across a list of 47 throughout the city. Some are open seven days a week for lunch and dinner while some serve one night a week. I chose to volunteer at Hillel on the campus of Penn. They offer a soup kitchen every Sunday night from 5:30 to 8 o'clock. No sign up is needed, just show up and help out.

During the subway ride over to Penn from Temple, I really did not know what to expect. The only visions I have are what I have seen in movies and television. When I got there, we made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches using every slice of the five loafs of bread. We put them in sandwich bags for guests to take on their way out along with a banana and milk. After that we gathered in the dining area to receive our jobs. One person would handout utensils, re-fill cups, serve food, etc. The most important assignment was to simply sit down and have a casual conversation.

At 6 o'clock the guests were allowed in. They calmly filed in, took a seat at a table, and had their cups filled with hot tea. Me and the other volunteers stood in line with an empty plate in each hand. Each plate got a serving of pasta with vegetables, pasta with meat, two slices of bread, and two chocolate chip cookies. After everybody received a plate of  food I stood in the back of the room. As I closed my eyes for a few seconds, it sounded more like the college dining hall it was than a soup kitchen. Soft contemporary music was playing through an iPod dock, but what was more noticeable was the laughter. I opened my eyes to see smiles in between each bite of hot food. That's when it first hit me. These people, after everything they have and are still going through, at this moment in time are happy.

I saw an open chair a couple tables away and asked if I could take a seat. The table was occupied by three men and a woman who were chatting about the weather. I asked how the night was going and a few responded with; "good." At first, I thought it would be easy to just sit and have a talk like I do almost every day with people at school. This was different. Thoughts of what to say raced through my head. How was your weekend? No. Did you see this or this on TV? No. I was going through my potential conversation topics as if I were tip toeing across a minefield. Usually when I am in a nervous situation I instinctively take out my cell phone as if there is an app to tell me what to do. However, I stopped my hand from reaching into my pocket. After about a minute the man to my right asked about Penn and I responded that I go to Temple. He then went on to talk about the new legislation in Harrisburg which he knew way more about than me.

When 6:30 rolled around guests were allowed to come up and get seconds. A line quickly formed. With plenty of food left there was enough for not just seconds, but thirds, fourths, and  fifths. Understandably, some went back to their tables and slid the food into a container along side a bottle of tea. While others stacked a fresh plate on top of their full plate of food and put it in a plastic bag to take with them. Around 7:30 everybody was gone. All I could think about was to where?

I look back on this experience as both educational and emotional. I feel blessed for everything I have. While there are plenty of statistics and graphs about homeless people on the web, I chose not to post any. These people are not numbers or lines, thats just what they are; people.


Here is a list of some soup kitchens in Philadelphia. Your time is much more valuable than the spare change in your pocket.