Driver

A soup kitchen in a church basement, a dozen cooks, pots clashing, hungry people eating a little too fast. The man sat by himself in a corner on a folding chair reading the newspaper. He didn’t eat and he didn’t wash dishes, so I asked him and he said, “See all those old folks in the kitchen? If I didn’t bring them, they wouldn’t be here. Be a waste of good cooks! Lotsa good cooks can’t drive, you know. I bring the cooks. I take the cooks home. You could say driving the cooks is my ministry.” You could indeed.