soup line.

(from our very first time serving the soup line, this monologue has been forming in my thoughts. it needs to be worked and developed, but i'd like to think there is a little potential lurking somewhere.)

oh my gosh, what am i doing here? i don’t belong. i don’t know what i thought this would be like, but whatever it was, it’s not. these people are judging me, i know it..

they are probably thinking “what a stupid, spoiled little white girl – shivering and trying to look friendly. of course she’s cold, she’s wearing a disgusting little designer skirt and tights.. well that’s too bad, little lady. what the hell do you know about being hungry, anyway? about being poor?”

i can see contempt in their eyes and on their faces, and they have every right to look that way. they’re right. i’ve never known what it’s like to go hungry or to spend a night on a park bench. i don’t know what it feels like to wonder where or when the next meal is coming or to wander in search of shelter on a bitter cold night.

but the thing is, i do know what it’s like to feel alone – to feel that every person, just for a moment, has completely turned their back. i promise, you guys, i can identify with you there.

and so go ahead, make assumptions and judge me too harshly. but do know this: know that today, at this moment, one less person is turning their back, and one more is stepping out of her comfort zone into the battle that is your life.