For years our church has put on a Roast Beef Supper once a month during the school year. It’s an established tradition, and people in the community who know us for nothing else know us for All-You-Can-Eat Roast Beef. Given our current budget situation and the challenges facing a 100 or so member church trying to support a full-time pastor, new fundraising efforts are taking place this year. The first of these was a Linguine and Meatball dinner last night. Although the attendance from the community was light (several more established suppers in the general neighborhood were also last night), we knew all along this was a test of both the menu and the willingness of volunteers to work on a second supper this month.
On both counts it was a great success! The food was delicious. But more importantly, the fellowship was stupendous. We had far more help than we needed and got the time to really visit with each other. People who never come to the Roast Beef Supper showed up either to help or to buy a ticket and eat dinner. People with children who never come to the Roast Beef Supper brought their children for this one. I had been briefly worried that there would be a climate of disappointment and a need for damage control, but in fact there was an air of pure conviviality.
Next month we’ll try the second Saturday instead of the first.
#2 Son is following in his older brother’s footsteps, winning the hearts of our preschool girls. The head chef’s three-year-old daughter spent the whole dinner asking to go into the kitchen and say “Hi!” to him. #1 Son’s little admirer, age five, likes to stomp on his foot to show her love, so we feel saying “Hi!” is a big improvement.
The best part of the night for me? When I went to the pie table to pick up a piece of Apple for my husband, I really, truly didn’t feel like having any myself. Maybe I’ve finally learned that all the food in the world is not going to disappear before I have the chance to eat again.