My parents were sick of the traditional Thanksgiving dinner scene, so they signed us up to serve dinner to the homeless in a big city two hours away. We had to get up at five a.m. to drive there. When we got there, we were immediately handed aprons and plates, and told to go set the long rows of tables. I had no idea how to set a table, so I followed my brother around and tried to do what he did. Mom and dad worked the food line, slopping mashed potatoes and gravy on the plates of the needy while my brother and I walked around with pitchers of milk and water.
Those people were the most grateful and polite people I'd ever met. I admitted on the way home that it hadn't really been as bad as I thought it would be.