Judith’s Story

Judith, a 47-year-old New Yorker, has been a guest at Holy Apostles Soup Kitchen for over five years.

Before falling on hard times, Judith worked for the Parks Department and before then as a nurse’s aide.  But in 2010, when she and her husband both lost their jobs, they were no longer able to keep up with the rent, and evicted from their apartment.  Judith’s husband spiraled into a deep depression which led to a crack cocaine addiction. Eventually, he left Judith on her own.

Homeless and alone, Judith turned to the shelter system for help. But finding her meager possessions lost or stolen at the end of each day —  even when she had locked them up — became too much and she felt that sleeping at the airport was safer. By using a rolling suitcase that makes her look like any other traveler, Judith has been able to make JFK her home for the past three years.

Judith is grateful for the two-to-three days each week when she is able to get to the soup kitchen, where she relies on a meal that’s not only hot and appetizing, but healthy and well-balanced.  “It’s hard to find meals that include fruits and vegetables,” she says — a sentiment echoed by many of the women and men we serve.  The day she spoke to us, Judith and all of our guests enjoyed pasta with meat sauce, mixed vegetables, salad, apples, milk and juice.

Judith also appreciates the compassion and kindness of staff and volunteers alike.  “Everyone is so good here.  They treat you like they care.  They go out of their way to help.”

Recently, that help has included a voucher for the warm winter coat Judith wears on these bitterly cold days.  Help has also come in the form of her participation in the Writers’ Workshop where she has been able to access her own creativity for the first time since childhood and to find a way to break out of isolation by connecting with others.

Along with all the help and support that she gets from the soup kitchen, Judith loves the music and the musicians who share their talent and time.  The Thursday we spoke to Judith, Karen Taborn was at the grand piano.  As she played Stevie Wonder’s “Don’t You Worry ’bout a Thing” for a few moments on a cold February day — and thanks to our donors and volunteers — the soup kitchen was able to ease the worries and burdens of our all guests, including Judith.

Edward M’s Story

Edward is a freelance commercial artist with an ample portfolio of comic book illustrations, some which he would like to use to develop a new video game. But, Edward’s been coming to the soup kitchen regularly this summer, as a second another round of economic troubles in the last fifteen years  has got him looking up to see bottom once again.

Edward developed a successful career when he first came to New York in 1975 as an aspiring freelance commercial artist. This came to an end 1999 when his wife was diagnosed with liver disease and he had to spend more and more time as her caretaker. By June of 2000, things had hit a crisis point with her health and for the next two months he wasn’t able to accept any work as he sat with her though her last days until she passed away in August of that year. Within a couple of weeks, while still dealing with the grief from that loss, he found himself out on the streets, looking for shelter. His wife had been the last tenant paying rent controlled prices in their apartment building. She had lived there before they got married, and it was her name on the lease. “I could have been put on an inheritance list but I didn’t know about it” Edward says.  With the primary tenant deceased, the landlord raised the rent and Edward found himself on the streets. That was his first time needing a hot meal and found one on a regular basis at Holy Apostles Soup Kitchen.

Edward’s spirit prevailed and by 2005 he was once again working, earning money and back on his feet financially. He had also fallen in love with another creative spirit, a massage therapist. The two of them were married and enjoyed the lucrative income of two successful professionals.

“But we got sucked right into the housing bubble,” he says, “she wanted to live near her family so we found a place in Connecticut, near a MetroNorth station, where I could still come into the city to work.”  Things were only looking up when the housing crash hit.

“They had told us they could ‘make it work’ when we signed the mortgage papers.” he says, “what that meant was a floating interest rate. I just signed the papers but didn’t really understand. Our rate went from 18% to 58% in a couple of months and we were suddenly hundreds of dollars behind.” The next thing he knew, he was bankrupt with a broken relationship, and actually in prison for several months because of missed payments.

With his marriage broken, assets depleted, and now a prison record, Edward decided to come back to New York to work on his art career again, which requires new skills in digital graphic arts. Today,  he is in a men’s homeless shelter and is once again coming to the Soup Kitchen for sustainance.

An old friend of his volunteers at the soup kitchen as a counselor and, on top of giving Edward some much-needed company, the two of them share a spiritual connection with Buddhist chants.

Michael’s Story

Michael has relied on Holy Apostles Soup Kitchen for about ten years, on and off. When he was homeless and unemployed he came to the soup kitchen for emergency help. He is still a guest here to help make ends meet, and to help keep his spirits up.

His lowest moment came after he had worked ten consecutive days at a street fair, earning $1500. That was to be his security deposit on a rental room. Exhausted from working so hard, he fell asleep in Penn Station, only to wake up and find his money had been stolen.

“I started crying and saying to myself, ” I can’t do a shelter”. Then I looked around and I saw a lot of people worse off than I am and I said to myself, “Things happen. You’ve got to make another plan and pick yourself up.”

That outlook on life helped Michael seek out and find the resources that  sustain his strength and health, many of them right here at Holy Apostles Soup Kitchen.

“When I was homeless, the counselors here pointed me in the right direction, to organizations that would help with different things. I lost my eyeglasses when I was sleeping on the street, so they helped me with that. I needed high blood pressure medicine, that was a big thing.”

Michael utilized the outreach services at the soup kitchen, like Single Stop and Urban Justice, to get him going in the right direction towards clothing, housing and access to medical services.

While all of this helped him get back on his feet enough to land another  job, he needed a current i.d. in order to start working again since his old expired license had been stolen as well. In a catch 22 situation, Michael couldn’t afford the new i.d. he needed in order to start earning money.  Frustrated, he brought a letter from the new employer, explaining the situation, to a pastor at the soup kitchen. The pastor gave Michael the money he needed for new identification.

Today, Michael is the primary caretaker for his disabled brother who in return pays Micheal a $300-a-week salary.  He still confronts the obstacles that come with low income in an expensive city. At the soup kitchen he finds a way not only to save on food costs, but also to  gain “the spiritual strength that I need on a daily basis.”

“Sometimes you give up hope but when you are in that spiritual circle, you can have some peace.”

On Achieving Section 8 Housing

On Achieving Section 8 Housing
by Norman Clayton

Three-thirty p.m. a balmy March first
Bring in pale squared sunlight against
My east wall.

My once ailing poinsettia is thriving.
It now seems more pink than red.
It is below the sunlight
Yet it glows like a cherry salesman
In my all white room.

Part of me says
It will at the very least
In a few months turn green
Like all the other plants.

But not the best part of me.
The best part of me
Wants it to keep its cheery glow.
March, it has been 29 years
Since my first breakdown

March, march march march
The world is good.

Homeless

Homeless
by Ronnie Eisen

In 1977, I had entered the shelter system for approximately one month. Christmas was approaching, and I could not bear the idea that I must spend this day in the women’s shelter. I was broke and completely miserable.

I went to the phone booth and dialed the toll-free number for battered women. They told me they had room for me at Mother Theresa’s, and I could move in on Saturday afternoon. You can’t imagine how happy I was to be going away from the shelter.

I carefully packed my few belongings, leaving a few things behind for my new friends, Crystal and Mickey. I never told my counselor where I was going. I left him a note, thanking him for all his help. Then I just left, pretending to be going to the laundry.

I rode the train to Harlem with great happiness. The convent was even better than I thought it would be. We had no Christmas tree yet, but Mother put one up and let us all decorate it. We helped cook all the meals and cleaned the place. For once, there was no smoking and no violence. I really enjoyed the peace and quiet.

But then, the annoying thing happened. It was Christmas Day, and Mother told us we had to leave at eight in the morning and not come back until four in the afternoon. I had gotten sick at the party the night before, and I felt awful. I had no money at all and nowhere to go. Having never been in Manhattan on Christmas Day before, I imagined nothing would be open, I would freeze and die.

Suddenly, I remembered a story in the newspaper about Holy Apostles Church. I got a copy of the Tablet and checked the address. A Nigerian woman told me they would be serving Christmas dinner there. She too had no place to go. We made our way down from Harlem in the snow. We attended church at Holy Apostles and then went to the meal.

Everyone was nice to us, and several men gave us referrals to other soup kitchens that I have been going to ever since. I thank God for all the nice people I have met, and all the help they have given me.

My friend was able to reunite with her sister and find work in America. I’m still homeless, but I do work now and go to Holy Apostles whenever I can.

Debbie’s Story

Back in the  late nineties, Debbie came to Holy Apostles Soup Kitchen to help her through a temporary cash shortage. While starting a job as a substitute teacher at PS 33, the school across the street from Holy Apostles, she had to wait several weeks before her first paycheck could be processed through the school system. She saw the line outside the soup kitchen during her lunch break.  “I didn’t have a penny. I was really hungry and dizzy so I said ‘I’m going to go over there and eat!”

That was before her life took several tragic turns, and before the soup kitchen became a regular necessity in her daily life. In late August of 2001, Debbie was struck by an oncoming taxi, breaking her legs at the knees.

She had been living in lower Manhattan for many years, having run the NYU etching studio after completing her Masters in Environmental Arts. Debbie recalls the days when she could still afford  “those expensive “Modi” glasses” and get her hair professionally highlighted. Her art career had also taken off with one person shows and “really good reviews in the Philadelphia Enquirer”.  As a single mother of two gifted children attending local private day schools on scholarship, and a substitute teacher at P.S. 33, life had its share of challenges, but for the most part she was able to stay above  water.

Those late days of summer in 2001 changed all that. The taxi accident would cause permanent physical disabilities, and just as she was  beginning to cope with the emotional trauma of the accident on top of the acute physical pain of the injury, the twin towers were attacked on September 11th. Living in lower Manhattan, she and her son witnessed and were embedded in the horrific events of that day and the months of recovery at ground zero.

Already vulnerable because of the accident, Debbie developed severe post traumatic stress disorder while her son also dealt with the anxieties of post 9/11. At this point her daughter was attending Bard College, and Debbie was now living with medical expenses, on top of her emotional and physical disabilities, while trying to be the best mother she could be despite everything. In  a heartbreaking decision, it was determined that her son, and the chocolate Laborador Retriever she had given him for Christmas,  would be better off going back to her home town  in Minnesota to be fostered by her parents. “He ended up going to the same school I did: Sunrise Junior High. I grew up in the suburbs and my Dad was an engineer. He worked for the National Cash Register Company for forty years.”  Although assured that her son and their dog were in caring and stable environment, she now faced  her own recovery under the additional weight of grief and loneliness.

Due to her disabilities, Debbie has been unable to work but she does have an affordable living situation in an artist’s community where she can still focus on her art. “One person shows are too expensive. They’re  quite an investment!” says Debbie, but her work has made its way into various collective shows.

To stay strong and healthy in both mind and body, Debbie relies on the meals and the community at Holy Apostles Soup Kitchen everyday.  She  has also attended the writers workshop, the art workshops and the meditation class offered through the soup kitchen’s support services. Today, she has a strong relationship with both of her grown children. She speaks with great pride about her daughter who has a successful writing career,  and her son who is now back in New York and a graduate of  Hunter College with a Masters in both Math and Economics.

And finally, she speaks with great reverence about Holy Apostles Soup Kitchen. “It’s a 10 out of a 10,” she says. “Everyday, in all aspects.”

Ricky’s Story

Ricky was homeless when he first came to Holy Apostles Soup Kitchen for lunch as a guest.  “Drugs and drinking were taking a toll on me,” he says, ” I was doing that because I was homeless. I had no hope. Everything was gone. When you’re homeless you don’t care about nothing. I numbed the pain of being homeless and hurting inside.”

Through the years, Ricky has faced a lot of loss within his own family, including his own divorce during his mid twenties. Two of his nine sisters and one of his three brothers have died of HIV related physical and mental complications. Another brother is living with HIV.

“I should be dead,” Ricky says,” I was blessed not to have it because of my own high risk behaviors.”

Like many homeless people, Ricky got to know the streets of New York. He noticed the long line around Holy Apostles Church and learned about the soup kitchen by talking to other guests. As he began eating lunch here on a regular basis, Ricky  found acceptance and “a love that was shown by the staff who were walking around and talking to me. The food was good, and a healthy quality” he recalls, “I kept coming back for the food, the service and the good, smiling faces.”

Then, through the support services and counseling offered at Holy Apostles Soup Kitchen, Ricky received vouchers for clothing, toiletries, phone calls, and even referrals to other places for food and showers.

“I became strong. I was like a dead flower but the love, caring and concern here made me blossom and bloom. Hope started coming back.”

Because of the emotional and practical support he received at the soup kitchen, Ricky had the strength to seek out housing resources on his own through other outlets and find the substance abuse treatment services he needed to continue his road to recovery. In 2010, when his housing situation had stabilized and he was clean and sober he approached our volunteer coordinator to see what he could do to give back.

Today, not only is Ricky a volunteer at Holy Apostles Soup Kitchen, he has also completed  a Manhattan based  HIV peer counseling program.

“I believe my calling is to help. This is the lifestyle I came from. I have empathy. I want to be a teacher to the younger generation.”

 

 

 

 

Rodney’s Story

Rodney’s work history goes back to high school – back to when he began to live on his own. Over the years, he’s worked in security and in food prep for hotels. Four years ago though, unemployment jumped into the mix. Rodney was left without a job and a home, and found himself in the shelter system.

Holy Apostles Soup Kitchen was the first soup kitchen Rodney came to, and he still relies on it as he puts his life back together one step at a time.

“Holy Apostles has helped me in so many ways, especially since food stamps have been cut. If it wasn’t for that, I’d be in a lot of trouble. Everything is going up.”

Last year, Rodney decided he needed to get the kind of training required for a job that  not only offers a paycheck, but security and benefits as well. After taking classes and studying hard, he took four tests, earning his commercial driver’s license on December 18th, 2013.

“No question about it. If it wasn’t for the soup kitchen there was no way I could even have food in my stomach,” For Rodney, food in his stomach meant he could  study, drive, pass the CDL license and start the process of applying for more competitive jobs than he had ever dreamed of having in the past.

The most surprising part to Rodney? The amount of hard work, time and negotiation that’s required after one has a license! “Things actually got harder. Most jobs have a lot of applications,” says Rodney. Often times, he had to go back multiple times to speak with different people for the same job.

While he’s been looking for jobs he’s continued to rely on the soup kitchen. “Without eating here there’s no way to survive. Bills, rent, storage, mta – there’s nothing left for food after that.”

Today, with perseverence and Holy Apostles Soup Kitchen everyday, Rodney is excited about his new job as a school bus driver, which started this past September.

“I still need to go through some hoops, get training and learn the routes,” says Rodney, who is hoping to eventually drive for the MTA, a private bus company like Greyhound, or even the Sanitation department. But now, with the help of the soup kitchen, he has faith that his future holds has much to offer.

Joel’s Story

Joel first came to Holy Apostles Soup Kitchen early in 2014 as a volunteer. It was a cold winter and the 36 year old native New Yorker wanted to help his neighbors in need. Little did he know that only a few months later, after losing a job he had held for many years, he would be the one in need of help.

“The job was off the books so there was no unemployment insurance when they let me go,” explains Joel. “I knew about the soup kitchen from volunteering here and I knew it was a good place and that they could help me.”

Joel knew he could get a nutritious lunch at the soup kitchen, but he got much more than that. As he came to rely on us, he saw how others were helped by our counselors, he heard of people finding jobs and housing. So when he had lined up an interview for a job this past August and didn’t have any suitable clothes to wear, he asked our counselors for help.

“They helped me out so much,” Joel recalls. “They gave me this nice shirt, khaki pants, shoes. I looked really smart and I got hired!”

Today Joel works for AM New York but he hasn’t forgotten the soup kitchen and he comes here to volunteer and give back as often as he can. His experience over the past year has motivated him to build on his skills and work towards a more stable career. Next year he has plans to go to Hunter College to study accounting and finance.

“I’m turning things around,” Joel says, “I’m reading a lot online about succeeding in business, about needing to be focused and make sacrifices. Coming here and volunteering helps me learn to put these things into practice.”

Leroy’s Story

“The volunteers inspire me,” says Leroy, who has been coming to the soup kitchen long enough to be inspired to become a volunteer himself. “I watched the volunteers for a whole year and they are always polite, very curious.”

And,  recalling how he was able to get new clothes here when he came in soaking wet after a rainy day living on the streets, Leroy praises the counseling staff, “Rich – I call him Superman. Theres’ nothing he can’t do. And if he he can’t do it, he’ll point me in the right direction.” Leroy says, “And Lillian and Brooke, they’re great too.”

“They treat you the same no matter how you look. You can show up looking dirty, without a shower or clean clothes and they’ll treat you the same way as they do when you are clean. They treat you well no matter what.  And they don’t discriminate. If you need clothes they’ll help you out. There’s nothing but love here and I wake up in the morning looking forward to coming here. It’s different than outside. ”

Leroy loves to learn too. He was a college student at TCI when financial circumstances forced him to stop out of school. But he still had student loans to pay off, only without a degree to get a decent paying job, and his financial situation continued to spiral downward.  So Leroy’s planning on joining the next Writer’s Workshop this fall to keep his mind active. After stating that he’s poet, he recites this one:

“Afraid of the fear

from before which was done

It was I yet I cry

But still here.

Quiet was the meadows

Without winds to stream

Peaceless echoes from the angles…

Surrounding me in walls

made of shattered glass

Encaptured in freedom

but still here

Diamond mines crossed my path

From a thought or two

Priceless to nature

But yet still unable to grasp

As visions fade fast

I debate no more

On why I’m still here

Everything becomes clear

Because I”m still here.”

Today, Leroy is meeting with one of the volunteer trainers to discuss how he can give back as a volunteer next week.