The Food Man
Does the Food Man know what a difference he makes in our lives? It’s his faithfulness that really astounds me. I call him the Food Man because that’s what the kids call him. He is an older man who goes to all the grocery stores in our city and takes the cast off foods that are going out of date. He brings boxes to families who have hit hard times and in need of a little help, like us. My neighbor Mrs. Barb Cruz was the original beneficiary of his kindness, but she soon discovered that even their family of eleven had a hard time going through all the food he would bring. She began sending boxes over to my place from the “food man”. I can’t say how many times I have thanked her just to hear her say, “Oh, Ab! It’s not me, it’s the food man!”
He comes on Tuesdays. One by one the children file out of the house, the younger ones run out first, barefoot, and yelling “the food man is here!”. I have to admit that when I hear them announce his arrival I find I am just as eager as they are to shuffle through the bounty he brings each week.
Most of the food is just fine by my standards, I just have to keep on my toes and use it before it turns. Although my neighbors have 9 children, it takes them all to carry the boxes of food inside. Huge boxes filled with vegetables, fruit, crackers, granola bars, yogurt, bread, milk, cheese, bacon and canned soups. Sometimes even cakes, muffins and hot cross buns from local bakeries. There have been times he has come with books for the children, toys, balls, crayons and coloring books. Some days he brings boxes of beads and necklaces for the girls to play dress up with, the boys join too. The notepads I use for my own writing have come from this thoughtful man.
He brings a rain or shine philosophy to his service. He has come to us in the snow. In the dead of winter when we most needed it, he came faithfully with his boxes of loot. When my husband and I were out of work after loosing our family business, we were barley scraping by, mind and body. But when his little red pick up truck would pull up to the curb, I often smiled to myself, silently thanking God for the profound impact this man was having on our lives, possibly completely unaware of what his efforts meant to us. On cold nights I would fill my soup pot with carrots, celery, onion and potatoes from the food man and add chicken for a simple soup.
Despite these hard times we always seem to have enough, thanks to the Food Man. No matter what he brings it always seems to be just what we need. I started shopping on Wednesday, because I have found that you never know what the "you know who" may bring on Tuesday. Whatever he brings I do my best to use, so does Barb. During strawberry season he brought enough strawberries to make countless jars of jam. I was given a lesson from Barb on how to make the stuff as well as 2 tall jars for storage. We enjoyed peanut butter and jam all summer. I must add that to this day I don’t know if it was Barbs recipe or the food man’s kindness that made that jam taste so good. But every time I used it, I thought of both of them. Funny thing is, Barb would say it was the food man’s kindness, and I’m sure the food man would laugh say I was silly and of course it was Mrs. Cruz’s recipe.
He comes on Tuesdays. One by one the children file out of the house, the younger ones run out first, barefoot, and yelling “the food man is here!”. I have to admit that when I hear them announce his arrival I find I am just as eager as they are to shuffle through the bounty he brings each week.
Most of the food is just fine by my standards, I just have to keep on my toes and use it before it turns. Although my neighbors have 9 children, it takes them all to carry the boxes of food inside. Huge boxes filled with vegetables, fruit, crackers, granola bars, yogurt, bread, milk, cheese, bacon and canned soups. Sometimes even cakes, muffins and hot cross buns from local bakeries. There have been times he has come with books for the children, toys, balls, crayons and coloring books. Some days he brings boxes of beads and necklaces for the girls to play dress up with, the boys join too. The notepads I use for my own writing have come from this thoughtful man.
He brings a rain or shine philosophy to his service. He has come to us in the snow. In the dead of winter when we most needed it, he came faithfully with his boxes of loot. When my husband and I were out of work after loosing our family business, we were barley scraping by, mind and body. But when his little red pick up truck would pull up to the curb, I often smiled to myself, silently thanking God for the profound impact this man was having on our lives, possibly completely unaware of what his efforts meant to us. On cold nights I would fill my soup pot with carrots, celery, onion and potatoes from the food man and add chicken for a simple soup.
Despite these hard times we always seem to have enough, thanks to the Food Man. No matter what he brings it always seems to be just what we need. I started shopping on Wednesday, because I have found that you never know what the "you know who" may bring on Tuesday. Whatever he brings I do my best to use, so does Barb. During strawberry season he brought enough strawberries to make countless jars of jam. I was given a lesson from Barb on how to make the stuff as well as 2 tall jars for storage. We enjoyed peanut butter and jam all summer. I must add that to this day I don’t know if it was Barbs recipe or the food man’s kindness that made that jam taste so good. But every time I used it, I thought of both of them. Funny thing is, Barb would say it was the food man’s kindness, and I’m sure the food man would laugh say I was silly and of course it was Mrs. Cruz’s recipe.
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