waiting tensely in the small, single room of the welfare committee hall, i could hardly control the knot of nervous excitement forming in my gut. it was my first time there with the temple youth group to help feed the homeless, and it seemed to me that i ad been given the hardest job of all.

nineteen tables kept in careful rows crowded the room and it was my job to stand in the center, where i could see every person and give directions to them to fill the seats a they emptied.

i was thrilled and eager to be actively doing something directly to help the community; but at the same time i was nervous too. how would these people be like? along with the zealous enthusiasm to broaden my perspective, there tugged the urgent voice of the little suburban girl inside me, asking me to hide.

there was, however, no turning back now. people trudged in, a huddled line of bundles and packs. red and blue patches of near frozen skin showed themselves beneath ragged scarves and overcoats, muffled eyes peered around the room with an air of bewilderment. i watched the people there in a kind of naive awe, wondering what were their reasons of living this way, imagining what it would be like to live on the city streets twenty four seven.

i was fidgety. so i focused on the advice of the director: "lots of 'em come here as much as to see a friendly face as they come to eat the food, so don't forget to smile."

this i could handle. smiling the warmest, most sincere smile i could muster, i caught the eyes of as many people as i could, and though a few smiled back, i felt good about it.

there was this old man with tufts of white hair who kept looking at me with an expression of far off wonderment. his vague gray eyes shone amidst his wrinkled face and a not quite at all there smile beamed at me with childlike simplicity. i was greatly touched by his evident pleasure of alternately swallowing a spoonful of food and staring at my face. when he motioned me to come over to him, i was only a little alarmed.

i went there and calmly asked him "how may i help you?"

his speech was slurred and gentle, and he appeared mildly senile. as he reached out of his hands to take mine, i felt no threat in his grandfatherly presence. "i just wanted to know" he murmured sweetly, "how much do i owe you for a smile?"

a little amazed by this absurd question, in a laughing rush, i replied "nothing." on this, that aged smile grew even bigger and pleasured "well, in that case, can i have another?"

i complied with a helpless blush. he told me that as long as he remembered that smile, he'd just do fine. me too, i thought.

sometimes, that's that it all it takes.