Two related stories

Parsnip Randy

My new job (Food Coordinator for a homeless shelter) holds so many blessings for me.  Every week I meet new people who’s lives and stories bring such richness to mine.  I’ve met some of the most truly amazing people ever to cross my path, at this shelter.  One such blessing is a man named Randy.  Randy is 41, has long dark hair (that he keeps in a ponytail), dark eyes, a dazzling smile and a personality that won’t quit.  It is my great privilege to work with him three days a week.   His jovial spirit is like a breath of fresh air and his smile brightens the kitchen.

My predecessor was an abrasive, boorish man who yelled and swore at the men daily.  I’ve heard stories from these men (about him) that rile my anger.  He made them feel worthless, and how he managed to keep his job for as long as he did, amazes me.   Once, he became so angry at them for not rotating the bread properly, that he walked into the kitchen…tore it apart in a temper tantrum…then made them go in and put it all back together.  Because of his treatment of them…the kitchen had become a dark place.  Now the kitchen is a place of smiles, and a bit of silliness.  For example…

Our driver’s name is Harry.  Harry is one of my favorite people.  As our driver…he is responsible for picking up donations from stores.  Harry has no judgment when it comes to quantities, and if some place say for example, offers fresh produce…he will pick up a thousand pounds of rutabagas, just because he can.  (LOL)…I’m exaggerating to make a point.  He has trouble distinguishing what a reasonable amount is that we can use before it goes bad…and also choosing vegetables that people will actually eat.

One day he went to get produce from the Stop Hunger Warehouse.  He returned with (no kidding) about 200 pounds of parsnips.  It took hours to prep and slice (in a processor) these parsnips.  We served them with lunch and dinner for three days!  Half of the people wouldn’t even try them.  The next week I was preparing to go to the Oregon Food Bank to get more produce.  I asked Randy if there was anything in particular he wanted me to get.  He smiled that dazzling smile and said, “Oh…we could use a couple hundred pounds of parsnips.”  I laughed and left for the food bank.  Of course there were loads of parsnips there, so I grabbed one.  When I returned to the shelter, I gave the loan parsnip to Randy.  He took a marker and drew hair and a face on it, and proceeded to call it Parsnip Randy.  He carried this thing around being silly for days…and by the next week…Parsnip Randy was dried up and very wrinkled.  Randy began to complain that “Parsnip Randy” was lonely and getting old.  So on my next trip to the food bank…I grabbed another parsnip…a big, long one.  When I got back to the kitchen (Randy was off that day, but came in to eat lunch) I attached a turnip to the top of the parsnip as a head.  I carved a crown out of a carrot and attached it to the turnip head.  I used whole cloves and for eyes…and buttons down the front of the parsnip.  I drew a mouth, and carved a bow tie out of a carrot and attached it to the parsnip.  It made a very handsome and tall companion for “old, dried up Parsnip Randy”.  Old Parsnip Randy was very pleased with young, stud muffin, Parsnip Randy.  Now the two of them live happily together standing in a clear, plastic cup on my desk, with a note attached that says, “Parsnip Randy and umm…”Partner”.

Tuna can massacre

Yesterday our volunteers didn’t show up to make dinner.  I was certain that their being on the calender was a mistake, since this particular group had just volunteered two days before…and I didn’t really expect them to come in.  I was right, but we have to give them a certain amount of time to show up before we start to cook the meal.  An hour and a half before time to serve…three of us started dinner.  This is a rather frantic time, as without the volunteers, there are very few of us in the kitchen.  I started opening cans of tuna to prepare for dinner.  Warning…this is going to be graphic.  My need for attention knows no bounds when it comes sharing what happened next.

One of the tuna cans stayed attached to the can on direct opposite sides after opening it.  For some reason the opener wouldn’t cut the lid on those two sides, leaving me the only option of lifting the lid on one side and pushing the other side down into the can.  I had gloves on, and reached into the can to scrape out the tuna.  As I drew my fingers out, the lid sliced into my middle finger and wedged into it.  Each time I tried to pull my finger out…the lid sliced deeper into it.  My finger was wedged in the can and I couldn’t move it.  When I tried to move the lid…it went deeper.  I started to shake, and didn’t know what to do.  It hurt really bad, and I knew it was only going to get worse before I was freed.  The Orkin man was there spraying for ants, and asking me questions.  I was trying not to panic, and so I calmly said, “I need help”.  He didn’t hear me, and continued to ask questions.  I answered his questions quickly and then said, “I need help…could you please help me?”  He noticed the panic on my face and came to me as I told him what I did.  I couldn’t bring myself to look at my finger, so he held the can and began to move the lid…I could feel it slicing deeper, and finally I said, “You are just going to have to push the lid down on the one side and force the other side out of my finger.  He did it quickly, and the lid (which was buried in my finger at an angle) tore up through the flesh and I was free!  I ran to the sink were blood was rapidly dripping from my finger.  The cut was rather deep and even though I put pressure on it…it wouldn’t stop bleeding.  I saturated a paper towel within minutes.  I was still shaking and knew that I needed help, so I grabbed the first aid kit, and some gloves and headed upstairs to the offices to ask someone to help me bandage my finger.  As I was going through the door, Randy entered the kitchen and asked what was going on.  I told him that I cut myself pretty bad and that I needed someone to help me bandage it.  He literally ran to me saying, “Awww, Holley…let me help you.”  He sat me in a chair, took the first aid kit, found some antibiotic ointment and bandages and fixed me up.  All the while he was working on my wound…he tried to make me laugh…and he did make me laugh.  My finger is still bleeding today…but I think I’ll survive…lol.

I’m glad I know Randy.  I’m glad that I have the privilege of working with such a shiny and beautiful spirit.