Friday, September 13, 2013

Angels Among Us

Angels Among Us

I told myself that I wouldn’t write about this. This thing was to be kept to myself, for my own joy and inspiration.

There is a joy so profound that must be shared and this week I experienced it.

I had gone to Emmaus House to help feed hungry people. Emmaus House serves breakfast every weekday morning in the Parish House of Christ Church.

 I was told to come on Wednesday as the teams were already tight every other day.

“Knock on the side door and Ms. Frieda will let you in. She’ll give you an apron and put you to work.” I was told.

Once inside, Ms. Frieda flashed a smile that lit up the room. She moved rapidly and appeared to be floating to some music that I could not hear.

Others were introduced and everyone was warm but there was no chit-chat; polite or otherwise. There was only a focused drive to get food cooked and the tables set up and dressed.

Mr. Steve conducted in the dining room. He moved like a man in his twenties, though I knew he had to be older than me. He was fast and thorough and seemed to have been listening to the same frequency Ms. Frieda was tuned into.

I’m a vegetarian but the smells in that kitchen made me want to eat meat.

Once we had everything in place, the prep and cook teams came together to pray. I heard the prayer, but I felt the meaning even more.

 The prayer went forth for the hungry, the mentally ill and the drug addicts. It went forth for those who were hated and forgotten. We were reminded that we were to be the love of Christ in our actions and deeds. And I stood corrected knowing that I was a servant and those coming in were the royal guests.

Tears streamed down my face as I was reminded of something my mother would say; that those who walk by the hungry are guilty of stealing bread.

As folks came in to eat, I witnessed a miracle. Food had run out, but Ms. Frieda kept serving. She made sure that every plate had been wiped of any spills and the food was hot and plentiful.

When one pan was empty, she floated to the next. If something was gone, she added something else. She went out to greet the folks she called “our clients” and I was humbled and honored to be in her presence.

“She won’t turn anyone away.” Someone whispered. I followed her as she told me to pass out the cheese sandwiches she made from the morning’s left overs. “No one should be hungry in this great country,” she said.

As we cleaned up and prepped for the next serving, I realized that my foot that had been in pain the week before had not bothered me once. My worries for my children had gone and I knew that I had been touched by these beautiful folks.

I left with the understanding that we are all in this together. In fact, I felt that I had been the one who was hungry and in need.

I didn’t want to share this joy, but I am compelled to share whatever brings hope.

What can you do to meet an angel?

Be you, be well, be the love,

Bertice Berry, PhD.



  1. Hi Bertice, great story, and lesson for us all.

  2. Hi Beatrice! Three years later and my experience was exactly the same. This was so very beautifully written and so accurate! What a blessing this organization is!