I don’t help out at the Baptist Church community meal anymore. I used to go every Wednesday and sink my arms into warm soapy water and wash up for a couple of hours. But not anymore. There are enough volunteers now, enough servers and clearers and washer-uppers to manage without me. I’ve not been in the church kitchen for weeks.

Instead, I stay in the church hall. I’ve got to know a couple of friends who come along and together we sit and chat as we eat the bowls of soup and plates of chicken & rice that are brought out to us.

I’ve moved from server to served.

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