Short Story: Welcome To The Holland Rescue Mission

1342 Words 6 Pages
The rusty white van careened around the corner, its wheels coming to a halt just inches away from the street curb. Peering through the dark tinted windows, we looked out at a dilapidated brick building that appeared to have been abandoned for years. The thin windows were cracked, looking like they couldn’t bear the winds of a minor rain storm. The walls crumbling onto the cement below from the many encounters with cars and frost wedging showed us that it wasn’t safe to live there. It beckoned our help. “This is going to be interesting,” mumbled our youth group leader Carol. A little circumspect, we opened the doors and stepped out onto the gravel road, the rocks emitting a dry crunch beneath our feet. We convened on the sidewalk and …show more content…
Our mission is to help every man, woman, and child that walks through our doors overcome homelessness for good. We offer biblically based programs and services to provide healin’ for transformin’ lives,” she said as if reciting from an advertisement. “Thank ya so much for comin’. Why don’t y’all head back to the kitchen and Donna will set ya up,” the women instructed. We moved through the eating area and stepped into the kitchen, the door swinging open to reveal piles of dirty dishes overflowing the sinks, workers scrambling to prepare a decent lunch for the day, and a floor covered in old food stains from what looked like years …show more content…
“Just follow me and I’ll show you what we’re going to have you do,” she said. We proceeded to a big metal door. Donna yanked at the door, which opened with a shudder and scrape as ice broke away from the frame, and exposed racks and racks of frozen food: frozen corn, frozen turkey, frozen mashed potatoes, frozen sardines. If you could stuff it into a container and put some plastic wrap over it, it was on a rack. All twelve of us packed into the small freezer that could hold a maximum of three people on any other day. The fetor of stale cleaning supplies and mold wafted out of it, knocking us off balance. “While we are preparing lunch for today, you guys will be in here. This is where we keep most of the food we serve here. We need your help to clean and organize these racks,” Donna continued as she picked up a container of mashed potatoes and disclosed a layer of black mold reposed on the rack. We cringed at the sight and turned our heads away.
“Okay, let’s split up. Half of you can clean racks and half of you can organize the food,” Carol suggested. She counted six people and said, “You guys can organize the food.” That meant that I and the five people left were fortunate enough to risk sickness and disease scrubbing the moldy racks. We waited outside the freezer while the other group received instruction. After a couple minutes, we heard the clanging of metal against metal. The door slowly inched open, exposing Donna, who was struggling to get

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