When I think of “volunteering” I first think of a soup kitchen, I imagine an industrial scene where an assembly line of men and women in drab uniforms, ladle cups of soup to a procession of hungry people in a line wrapped around the block. However, what I experienced was a stark contrast.

I arrived at breakfast and the smell of coffee enveloped the area. I brought with me my own thermos of coffee I had been nursing since I left home. There was general sense of unity with soup kitchen guests; both men and women similarly drank their morning brew, in this universal early morning ritual. I was thrilled to teamed up with two Volunteer Odyssey alumni upon my arrival at the old gothic church.  Not only does Saint Mary’s Catholic Church feed the souls of its parish but also the hungry of Memphis.

I was able to speak with a fellow volunteer before today, and this helped to prepare me for the journey. My first task, which I immediately began, was assembling cold cut sandwiches; I had been forewarned that our task was to simply fight hunger, not to provide a perfectly balanced meal. The diversity of the hungry people who waited in line for a meal surprised me. There where people who pushed their possessions in shopping carts in addition to well dress man in a suit on his way to work and men in hard hats who appeared to have finished a redeye shift on a construction site.

Still morning, we began passing out lunch and the gratitude from the line was endless. I felt slightly guiltily as I was simply the person they saw deliver their food. There were others forces that had been passed through me to the patrons; the parish of St. Mary’s that provides the kitchen, the community that donates to support this institution and the committed people that give their time to utilize these recourses for continually fighting hunger. Representing this collaborative effort I smiled and issued a good morning to everyone who passed through.

I  happily embraced my new home and its blues influences as one of the guests encouraged me to empower my welcoming greetings with more soul. The dining tables were harmonious with gospel music filling the area. I recognized the hymns from my Catholic upbringing but admitted to another volunteer that I’m unfamiliar with the gospel classics. I was delighted discovering to be titled Memphian as a nonnative I had to learn some history. Elvis history specifically and the sounds of gospel and blues played an integral role in his story. As lunch finished the designated volunteers and many of those who came to eat helped clean and prepare for the cycle to continue tomorrow.

This experience reminded me that benevolence isn’t just about the big actions, such as building schools or changing policies; it’s also about the small actions that add up to something greater. It hasn’t taken long for Memphis to start to feel like home, at Saint Mary’s I was able to see people leave the gathering with a strong sense of community, something I too am seeking in my new town.