Reflections

Meal Ministry | Advocacy Issues | Participate-Volunteer-Donate | Office, Phone, Staff, Contacts | Location & Map

Here are some shared memories of our LUMS experience. They are from my grandmother Gerda, my boyfriend, and I (Doug and Tiina).

Gerda: While walking around to visit each table, I asked one guest how his meal was. We started talking and he asked me if I liked to cook. He then asked me if I liked to sing. He said that I reminded him of his mother and that that evening when he closes his eyes to go to sleep he said he might just cry because he'll be thinking about his own mother.

We were so impressed at how organized everything was. Everyone was assigned a task when we arrived. When the meal was all served, we couldn't believe that in the last 1½-2 hours we had just fed close to 400 people! Everything went so smoothly and went by so quickly.

During the meal, one of the gentlemen (when he had finished his meal) had got up to play the piano. Then he started to sing. He was terrific! We started to dance as we were serving juice and coffee. What a very relaxed and fun atmosphere.

As more guests arrived, some of the volunteers and staff joined them at the tables. When serving beverages and the meal, you would pass by guests and staff and volunteers all talking and visiting with one another. It seemed that it was just as important as having a hot meal.

Everyone at the meal was so thankful and so appreciative. "Thanks dear, thank you miss," I heard again and again.

When I have family/friends over for dinner, I sometimes make a small gift for my guests to take home with them, so when we knew that we were helping out at LUMS, I got to work on making 400 small gift tags, each with a little quote, such as, "A candle loses none of its light by lighting another candle." As the tags were passed around, I could see people laughing and smiling at the different sayings. I even saw a few people taking a pocketful of them. How nice to think that maybe they might then pass them along to someone else.

I found the LUMS website very useful. It went over different situations you might encounter while volunteering and spoke very highly of the people who use this service.

Reflections from some of our friends and participants

Occasionally, LUMS receives personal testimonies from participants. We would like to share them with you. Here is one such letter from 2005.

The Aline Blais Memorial Love Lunch

As I scrambled to remember everything to bring to the church on the morning of the Aline Blais Memorial Love Lunch, I took a moment from the craziness to kneel before my altar of collected wood, rock, feathers, shells, money, a bible and treasured gifts from friends. As I paused to think about what I was doing, I looked up and a question came to me.

What do I want from this lunch? Abundance came the reply.

With the Cabrio stacked with boxes of sausages and bacon, a large bag of onions, boxes of flowers and all the last minute things Fabyo and I could remember, we headed towards First United church at Gore and Hastings, just on the edge of Chinatown and the ugliness of the downtown eastside.

Arriving at the church, we awaited someone to arrive and open the doors. Fabyo reminded me in my impatience to get in and start cooking, that I could only do my best.

Finally getting into the church, one of my first tasks was to go to my friend Brian's office and get the kidney beans that had been soaking overnight. As we opened the door, my eyes saw the floor littered in red. The beans had expanded overflowing the rim of the buckets and pots and scattered all over the floor. I laughed at the irony of having asked for abundance. I laughed at the irony that my Mother died with one kidney shriveled and dead and the other well on it's way.

Back into the kitchen where the fury of organized chaos reigned supreme. My dear friends Tony and David helping to cook. David and I cutting onions as Tony fried them with garlic. The strength of the onions tearing our eyes.

Fabyo taking charge outside to arrange the unbelievably generous donation of hundreds of flowers from the Flower Factory on Main. Deena, the mother of Fabyo's son, Erik, jumping in to help us in the kitchen. Erik helping Fabyo.

Next we began to cut the bacon. The stack of boxes reminding me of the generosity of my workplace, The Fish House in Stanley Park. A donation of $300 worth of food and the rest at cost being an enormous help.

It became clear very early in the preparing of the meal that I had more than enough food for the event. Again abundance reigned supreme.

As the pressure of the looming start time for serving came upon us, I began to panic that we were running behind.

In the door walked a new and dear friend, Chris, bouncing in with her boundless energy radiating out from her enthusiastic heart. She bonded with the large wooden paddle for stirring the beans.

With the rice cooking in the oven, the beans boiling on the stove, the salad cut and ready for dressing I headed out to the front to see how the decorations were coming for the tables.

Each table was draped in purple plastic table clothes, bought by my oldest friend and past lover, Belinda. Someone guiding her to buy my Mother's favourite colour purple. In the centre of each table was a overflowing vase of flowers, reminding me of my tradition of late of greeting my Mother's arrival in Tsawwassen with a bouquet of flowers. The glaring fluorescent lights dimmed to give the soft glow of tea lights on each table more power. Mountains of home baked cookies rising from a table - a reminder of my Mother's sweet tooth for good old fashioned home baked goodies. Also a reminder of how people we don't even know give to us and support our endeavours, as many of the cookies came through friends of friends. The generosity of strangers shining through. Volunteers busy packing fruit to give away, setting up coffee and juice stations, wrapping cutlery and working together like a symphony of cupid's helpers.

Back to the kitchen and only moments away from the start of the service, I leave the last bit of cooking in the very loving hands and hearts of my friends and I head into the chapel.

There I meet Bishop Jim, personally invited by my dear friend and pastor of LUMS, Brian. Both of them looking splendidly elegant in their church regalia of draping white and purple clothes - again the purple.

As the service begins, my thoughts turn to my Mom. The incredible amount of suffering she survived and the sweetness of her being. How she was never the Mother I had imagined I wanted but how in the end she was one of my greatest teachers in life. She taught me to set love free. She taught me to set her free. Even in her dying moments of agony on the hospital bed with tubes running in and out of her, she was adamant that we let her go, her eyes and gestures pleading for us to remove all life support. Now once again I knew it was time to let her go.

Ever since her death a sort of paralyzing sadness had descended upon me. I knew I had a lot of work to do for her estate, for this meal and for myself, but somehow I felt immobilized. Now as the tears welled in my eyes and my heart weighed heavy, I knew why. I was still mourning the loss of my mother. The loss of her to alcoholism so many years back, the loss of her to self-sabotaging behaviours more recently and the final loss of her life in the dark winter days of this recent Christmas season.

As Bishop Jim cleansed me with incense, I cried sitting alone on the front pew of the chapel. As Erik read a passage I cried at how blessed I am to have him, his father and mother all in my life - my new family. As Brian preached his part of the sermon, I cried at the beauty of my friend, the angel of the downtown eastside. I cried at the beauty of my friends cooking up a storm in the kitchen behind the chapel. I cried at the beauty of my father raising four kids alone at a time when that was unheard of. I cried at how my brother, sisters and I all became loving, supportive and generous citizens. I cried realizing fully for the very first time, that my Mother had helped to deliver this amazing richness and abundance to my life. Thank you Mom.

The service wound up with all of us taking communion. The warmness of the booze washing down my throat as I said inside, this is for you Mom.

I left the chapel, eyes red and swollen and headed to the kitchen slightly worried that the beans would not be ready. I was wrong, they were ready, and we were on time. The Gods were smiling up and down upon us.

My friend and a wonderful singing teacher, John began to play the piano. Jacques, Deena's boyfriend played guitar.

I smiled knowing my Mom was hearing, smelling, seeing and feeling it all. As the guests hungrily began filling the empty seats, I returned to the kitchen. Everything was flowing smoothly.

Brian grabbed his hand and led him away. Max teetered on his newly found walking feet, running more than walking. He set hearts aglow everywhere he went.

I watched as a once proud warrior, a Native man, his body bruised and battered but his spirit and soul alive and strong, gingerly carried two roses away. My heart smiled knowing by his carefulness, he was carrying them to someone he loved.

Once the meal was finished and all the guests fed, we volunteers sat down to eat. As I looked around me, surrounded by friends, family and lovers both old and new, I thanked my Mom once again for the unusual way she taught me to love.

I thought of my family who had shielded me from the worst of my Mother's alcoholism; my Dad, my sisters and my brother. I thought of Fabyo and how everything I do is because of his support and love. I thought of Deena and her generosity of heart in accepting me into her family. I thought of all my dear friends, both here and away and how their love always uplifts me. I thought of how I am everything that everyone ever gave me. Mostly I thought and felt the incredible blessings of lovers, families and friends.

Thank you to everyone for helping me to honour my Mother and family and to nourish the body, hearts and souls of so many people on March 12, 2005 on the Downtown Eastside. The abundance of that day continues still as my inner well of love overflows and the many buckets of rice and beans that were left over from the event are still feeding souls on the downtown eastside of Vancouver.

I am forever grateful to everyone and I extend my offer of help to all of you in any endeavour you may undertake in your fruitful lives.

Much love, gratitude and humbleness,

Michael Wilford

Ever want to help out on the downtown Eastside?

I cannot say enough wonderful things about the Lutheran Urban Mission Society. Through my friend Brian, his staff and volunteers, God's work is performed daily on the Downtown Eastside. Donations of money, clothes and food are graciously accepted. Volunteers are always welcome to help with the Saturday meal program on the second and last Saturdays of each month. Children especially bring light, love and intimacy to these meals.

Special thanks to these business establishments:

Volunteers from a local school helping to serve the meal.

Rey with his twinkly eyes of love serving food, juice and coffee. Jodi with her heart of gold, bussing tables and looking guests in the eyes. Michelle delivering cookies with her wisdom, grace and loveliness. Ethelwyn, the faery godmother of so many lending her regal energy to the festivities.

Flustered and arriving late as per usual, Belinda arrived with her Buddha baby, Maximillian in her arms. His large blue eyes beaming his natural beauty as his smile sung mischievous.

The Fish House in Stanley Park
For the generous donation of food and for being one of the most supportive work environments I have ever worked, not to mention the divinely inspired cooking of the fabulous Karen Barnaby.

The Flower Factory
For the gorgeous flowers they generously donated. Ever want a special bouquet, go to the Flower Factory, tell them your budget and let them work their magic - best bouquets in the city!

Union Street Grill
For baking and sending nearly 500 cookies, for having the reputation for the best food in the Comox Valley and just so happens to be my dear sister's and brother-in-law's restaurant, The Union Street Grill in Courtenay, BC. Without first learning to cook from Danielle and Mark, I would never have been able to pull off feeding 400 people.

North South Travel
For happily employing my partner Fabyo and generously donating in the past, a big thank you to North South Travel and Darcy Hibberd, the owner.

Sharing Stories by Tiina

Home

Made by Serif