Food for the Soul

Writer Talia Shehadeh and comment editor Emilia Sandoghdar served food at St Cuthbert’s Centre today. The efforts of Food for Soul, and its project Refettorio Felix, transform surplus food from all over London into delicious 3-course lunches, for those suffering from poverty or other hardship. 

“We are like a home providing a living room and dining room for the vulnerable in our community.” – St Cuthbert’s Centre

It is challenging to hear myself saying “I need to do something good this term,” and not condemn my extreme lack of having done anything for anyone else but myself these past 2 years of university, as well as my extreme privilege to choose when I want to help. I am ashamed for ending up at St Cuthbert’s because I followed an urge to redeem myself for my various flaws.

People volunteer to help others and yet, sometimes, they might not admit to themselves that they are going there to help themselves. I admit that I fell into the latter category. But I will definitely not fall into that category after today. After today, I will help to help. To see the smiles of people who have just taken their first bite of warm food. To hear the plethora of ways people order coffee. And to support a community.

An old man looked at me and said “you didn’t put enough salt in his coffee,” pointing to his friend’s cup across the table. In my eagerness to be as useful as possible, my face tensed up – had I screwed up already? Of course he was joking. I relaxed. It was strange that this was the first time I actually engaged with a homeless man for more than a second of exchanging benign smiles in a short pause of my London mania. People at St Cuthberts were friendly, funny and most of all, grateful. This was a community.

Some people slept on the armchairs in the corner, the reading group on the stage had just finished, others had just taken a shower or looked something up online. Looking around the room to see who’s plates I could clear or who had not gotten their food served yet, I thought, wow, I really try so hard not to be an overprivileged idiot, but I just am.

I had no idea what toils these different characters were going through. I was not there to listen to their life stories. They were not interested in hearing mine. We were all there because of the food. Because humans need food and because humans need a community.

It is difficult to write about helping and not sound like you are exploiting people’s vulnerability for the sake of calibrating your own moral compass. For wearing the “I am a good person” banner for a while. I think none of that matters. What matters is that we all serve food once in a while. Or whatever else we can do to be useful not only to our personal journey of merit. And I think sharing our experience of doing so, is extremely valuable and necessary, especially in a polarised city like London. Today was food for my soul.