“Thank you! God bless you!”

Said the man who was constantly bowing his head in front of us at the dishwashing station. It felt kind of weird for me to receive a blessing of someone I do not know. I usually get blessing at church or from my relatives, but never from a stranger. I was working at Andre House, a Phoenix soup kitchen that generously served food to those in need.

I felt somewhat bizarre because I was always told of how the homeless were uneducated or undeserving because they have screwed up somewhere in their lives. Before, I believed this was true, and that a majority of the homeless deserved it, but after the van took a turn to Andre House, my mind suddenly changed. I heard nothing but the voice in my head saying, “What happened to them? Do they really deserve this? What was I thinking?”

Filthy, torn, and miserable. That is what I see.

I begin helping by cutting the fruit, throwing out the horrendous bag of trash, and, my important job, dishwashing. Dishwashing was a simple at first. Stacking the plates, placing them on trays, giving them a good rinse of water, and putting them into the steamer. That is until the plates came faster and faster. What felt like hours were only minutes in reality. I could not rest for even a second because the filthy trays would came piling up to a point I had two piles with fifty trays in each pile.

My friend, who worked this job many times, said it was like riding a bike, but I think it was more like riding a dirt bike.

I wanted to get it over with. Then, I see a man who came with tray with not a single bit of food remaining and gave it me with the look of joy in his eyes. He said, while constantly bowing his head, “Thank you! God bless you!”

I was shocked. I could not help but think why I deserve this man’s blessing. I started out thinking all the homeless deserve to be homeless and miserable. I started out thinking just get it over with. So why did he bless me? I did not deserve it.

I am only just a dishwasher.