Shaky fingers and a quick heartbeat.

As the time came closer and closer, my hand clenched and my stomach with it. I had always been a shy person but now seemed like the most nerve racking moment of my young adult life. I was at the St. Vincent de Paul Charity House in Phoenix, Arizona where food is provided for the less fortunate individuals and family in the local community. It was the only community service event that offered alternatives to physically encountering the homeless. I'd been there before and I was only assigned to the docks which required little group interaction, a thing I was comfortable with.

Yet, today was going to be far different than what I was accustomed to. As I put on the gloves and made my way to the Hall, the setting sun on the outside of the building seemed to make everything more real and it dawned on me that I would be serving food.

To absolute strangers.

People whom I've never known nor will ever see again. Why was I so nervous? Probably because they were I had seen numerous times on the streets. Asking for food and money, sleeping on the sidewalk, and pushing carts full of relatively invaluable junk wherever they went. I had never been a fan of the homeless and always thought that they were people who had never taken their lives seriously, so they deserved their fate. Fear of grabbing hands and gruesome teeth solidified into images that flashed in my head. Dirty dingy people, snatching and snapping toward me to get their food. I was not too thrilled to be there and I was willing to walk out, but I wanted to change and see for myself how things would go, not only relying on the wet cement of thought that was mixed into my mind.

6:55pm. Serving began at 7:00 and I had received my instructions from the supervisor of the event. I would be bartending the families; therefore, getting up close and personal with those who came in. I swore that luck was not on my side and was not enthusiastic about this position at all.

The time was now 7:00pm. I wiped all traces of perspiration from my face and approached the first group I saw. It appeared to be a family of four, a normal family of four. As a inched closer, the normality of the group caught me off guard. They did not look like a wolf pack bound to attack and my tension eased slightly. Once I reached them, I mustered up some confidence and squeaked “Is everyone ready to order?”

Eight curious eyes looked up simultaneously and I shrunk slightly but regained my posture to hide my mounting fear. The two children broke out in smiles and eagerly rattled off “some rice and chili! Rice and chili!”. The sweet innocence of their plea was like soothing honey to my nerves. I felt more relaxed and bold even.

“You sure that's all you guys want?” I asked further. “Yup yup!” they assured.

I scribbled down the request and turned to the adult parents becoming slightly more guarded now. The husband was the first to speak. “Can I get a pork patty, rice, and bread? Same for my wife please.” There was no squabble. No growling or commands. Just a request. The fog became clearer and clearer as did my judgment. As I walked away to get their order, the cement of preconceived notions began to ooze out of my head. I became more assured that these people were not an uneducated or gruesome part of society. Their lives had just been swept from under them at no real fault of their own.

As I walked back with their dinner, I saw a loving family that was just like any other family in the world. The only difference was their circumstance and how life had affected them. Yet they were still smiling and it was the most enlightening smile that I had ever beheld. Setting the food on their table, I heard the father talking about finding a job during the week and how things would get better.

I never forgot that family. It reminded me of my own and made me feel all the more dedicated to helping them out. I became more enthusiastic for the rest of the evening and made sure the smile they radiated was plastered on my face when I served everyone else in the hall their dinners.

The night began to close and I was dead tired and ready to go home. As I made my way out, I saw that first family again. The two children looked up at me and gave me a heart-melting smile and waved their goodbyes.

Those simple gestures made it all worth it.