“It’s like loaves and fishes,” a good friend said as we crossed paths this morning, taking full serving platters in and empty ones out of the post-Simbang Gabi Mass breakfast line.
“Either that or the locusts,” I said, laughing.
It was Anglo day, which meant that about a dozen friends and acquaintances and I were responsible for feeding the pre-dawn Mass-goers. We had ham, strata, quiche, bacon, sausage, four kinds of soup, juice, pastries, deviled eggs, and a smattering of finger food. Every year, when everything’s in the kitchen heating up or on the buffet line before 200 or so people descend, it seems like way too much. But it never is. This year, we had a 
bit of sausage, some pastries, juice, and soup to carry over for tomorrow’s breakfast. It turned out we hadn’t gone exponentially overboard. We did make sure everyone was fed.
As for me, I spent most of the morning in the kitchen, the way I like it for this annual event. Part of it is that I’m pretty good at timing what needs to go into the convection/traditional/warming ovens when, and at making sure everything gets out to the table. But part of it is that I live a lot of my life in an extroverted, public way. I need to occasionally be the behind-the-scenes worker, seeing my friends catching up with each other or making new friends. I enjoy listening to people as they drop off items for breakfast, or stop by to chat as I work. One acquaintance who’s been out of work for a while came to say she appreciated that I cared enough about her situation to offer up prayers on the spot the last time we’d seen each other. We both teared up.
And then, it was done: the few leftovers put away, the dishes washed. And as I greeted the late sunrise at 7:30 a.m., I knew I’d been fed by more than a couple puff pastries and two doughnuts.
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