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Hungry man.

November 3, 2016


Thursday, November 3, 2016

Yesterday evening at the Church of the Fervently Religious, after feeding the three families of Family Promise, the same tall dark stranger as yesterday strode into Fellowship Hall asking, “What time do you serve supper here?”

Vivian replied, “We serve the families at six.  What’s your name?”

“I’m Will,” he replied.  “May I have some supper here?  I’m really hungry and I’m homeless.”  Will sounded well-educated and spoke in a somewhat stilted manner.

Vivian looked at me and I nodded, then she offered to heat him up the leftovers from supper:  roast beef and green beans.  The potatoes were gone.  We still had some dessert: apple rum dum cake.  I microwaved his plate.

“Thank you so much,” Will said.

“How did you get into the church?” I asked.

“Through the front door upstairs.”

“You know —“  I began.

“Excuse me while I pray,” Will said, sitting down at a table, placing his fingers in his ears.  “Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm,” he droned.

I ignored him.  I had informed him the previous evening that at the C of the Fervently Religious we pray principally upstairs.  Closer to God.  I began sweeping under the tables.

When he was quiet I informed him that we didn’t normally feed people who walk in from the street, although we were glad to help him out this time.

I thought he needed to know that we take care of people in the program:  parents with their young children and we have to guarantee their safety.

We differ from the Rescue Mission.  “Have you gone there?” I asked.

Will said he had been kicked out of the Rescue Mission and now he can’t go back.

Vivian added that our church is in rotation with many others who take turns feeding homeless families in the Family Promise program.

“Which is the next church?” he asked.

I ignored the question because I couldn’t think of the answer.  I think it’s one of the Catholic churches.

Will told Vivian that he had come to Billings from Mississippi by bus.  He aspired to sing in churches.

Once he had finished eating dessert, I took his plate and asked him to leave.  He said that would be fine.  I told him that I really need him to return to the Church of the F.R. Sunday at 11 for weekly service.  To Pray, of course.

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