Holy Apostles Soup Kitchen

FOOD FOR THOUGHT

In Uncategorized on December 6, 2016 at 9:07 pm

 

food-for-thought-two

Fundamentally food is necessary but more than that, than

Out of necessary, it is glorious!

Opulence of greens and reds, of leaves and roots, of slabs of meat, of breast and legs and wings

Descending on my plate before me magically, gracefully from God’s bounty

 

For all—if only we share, fall short if we fail to, frantic hunger, wasting away

Olfactory delights as well as tongue

Resounding crackles, hissing, crunching, chew, chew, enjoy the stew

 

Thankful can’t begin to describe my sentiments, the

Honest truth of it, the urgency

Out of hunger, unto gratitude

Urgent our call to share so none go hungry, none grow emaciated with distended bellies

Garden the Earth, sow, reap, gather in garlands of greens and sweet peas and marigolds

Hearty meals—a banquet for all the world

Thanks and thanks to God, the earth, sister, brother.

–    Annie Quintano

Philip

In Soup Kitchen Stories on November 22, 2016 at 7:34 pm

 

philip

On many mornings, Philip will arrive early, bundled up for the cold weather and greeting other guests with a smile and a word of encouragement. A retired Parks and Recreation Director on a limited income, Philip isn’t comfortable just having a meal here without giving back.

“I’ve donated some of my old clothes…things like that,” he explains. “I’ll get a hot meal, and that helps, but a lot of what I am thankful for is the social part,” he explains.

For Philip, this civic minded way of thinking can be traced back to a lifetime of public service and leadership as a Parks and Recreation Director, a youth hockey coach and team sports.

Philip remembers playing baseball in high school so competitively that he was scouted for college teams. “But my mother said no, and I had to respect her wishes,” he says, adding.”I’ve made peace with it. I’ve done other good things with my life that I’m proud of.”

After earning a degree in physical education, Philip enjoyed a productive career with both the New York City and New Rochelle Parks and Recreation departments. His lifetime contribution to the the well-being of countless New Yorkers, from the young athletes he coached to older adults who found happiness and health because of his leadership in their local parks and recreations programs is immeasurable.

“I led my teams to the state championships,” he remembers with pride. “Even when they weren’t expecting to get that far.”

We are seeing more New York retirees like Philip join us regularly for their daily meals. In fact, in our latest survey,  over 14% of guests reported they are over the age of 65, a 4% increase since 2014. Like Philip,  who has contributed so much to society, they too are struggling to make ends meet in New York City on  limited retirement incomes.  Sitting down for a meal alongside the  most vulnerable and homeless New Yorkers, Philip is one of these many senior citizens who are valued members in our community, offering motivation,  hope and wisdom to others.

“The community here means a lot to me,” Philip says. “I like to help out where and when I can.”

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To find out more about how people come together to help hungry and homeless New Yorkers at Holy Apostles Soup Kitchen, log onto our special holiday video on our website at:

http://holyapostlessoupkitchen.org/2016/06/happy-holidays-holy-apostles-soup-kitchen/

 

 

Cold Water Flat

In memoir, Poetry on October 28, 2016 at 2:26 pm

 

vintage-west-village-map

COLD-WATER FLAT

That now has hot water.

I used to think of it as my

Million-dollar apartment,

All three rooms of it.

I was close to the Hudson River

And to the quiet streets

Of the West Village.

It was only a subway ride

From my mom and my hometown

In Jamaica, Queens, New York,

Where I wouldn’t be recognized

If I returned there for a visit,

As almost everyone I know

Has moved away to the Island.

West Village. 1970s. I was youth

Run amok. Up days on end, drunk,

Nicotine poisoned, searching

For an “ancient heavenly connection”

To give my life meaning while I drove

Hit-and-run love affairs that left

Me and others sorry for living.

Employers who put up with me

Because I knew books

Or to help stave off

The inevitable homelessness

I was headed to fast.

Eleventh Street. Roaches.

Smelly cat litter. Tobacco smoke.

Imagine a plethora of apt adjectives.

One cat I threw out

Before an open window.

The other cat died without

An explanation.

Now, I’m far enough

From Jamaica

And the West Village’s

Descent into madness

And have achieved

A Ginsbergian cool,

Hello, Murray Hill.

-Michael LaBombarda