Evening star., 1931-12-13

~ NE morning tbout eight months
ago q woman was driving along
San FranciscO's water front,
~ with a young son for her only
companion
They saw some men, cold and desc
late and idle, sitting on a heap OF old
blanks. in the cold and fog, and spoke
to them. What they heard was the
noW-familiar story These boys were
sailors, unemployed in a time of gen.
erai unemployment, stranded in city
they hardly knew, friendless and hungry
not buns, not beggArs, not charity
cases, just young AITsricans out of
luck.
The woman, who sss no money to
spare, went home worried, presently to
find herself occupied with the beef, po-
tatoes, carrots an9 enions that were TO
compose the fanny dinner. The next
morning she went back to the water
front and served The original FIVE men,
and seven more, with hot stew, hot Cof-
fee and buttered buns.
That was the beginning Of the min
istry of the White Angel. From that
day to this she has been following, in
all simple seriousness, a 2,000-year-old
command to feed the hungry.
Right there, on that deserted corner
of a busy water front, with old pipes
abandoned machinery all about her,
plank tables have sprung up, kitchen
has been rooted in, tin plates and mugs
have somehow been gathered together.
The White Angel, without means, with
out backing, without boards of directors
and stockholders meetings, without
card catalogues and district supervisors,
goes calmly on feeding the hungry. One
day I was there she had given $500
men a good breakfast of oatmeal,
oranges. coffee and bread she expected
as many for lunch; few hundred more
than that for dinner.
X
IN the center Of this empty lot, whose
l. owner has loaned it to he: for in
definite time, a little white ship has
been built and all about it on the rough
earth ramify the tables where Lois
Jordans guests have their fill three
times day. She asks no questions, CT
rather, she asks but one: Are you
hungry"
If you are, nothing else counts. Black,
white, old, youngs of any creed or no
creed, down you Sit, and before you is
placed the hot plate of stew and beans,
the big roll and steaming cup.
1t was done that way on that Spring
day when first she arrived with her big
pot Of stew, and it Is done that way to-
day. But, Of course, there are other de-
yelopments now. The miracle Of the
loaves and fishes is demonstrated anew
for whoever will see it, in this jungle"
of hers, as she calls it, all day long and
every day. No note at once so simple
and so divine could be struck in our
complicated life without stirring chords
in many hearts 1t is hard to see the
long, bare tables the faces Of the men,
the Stea To0+c Y71a 1op
eager stir and hurry and enthusiasm,
without longing to have finger in the
pie, too.
One visitor was a big commission
merchant, a very wall of fat potato
sacks was his way of putting in a
Gnger. Another visitor was from a big
packing plant; the preserves that the
boys" have on their morning oats
come from him. Not good enough
for the public, but called delicious here
A delicate woman, furred and fearful
woman whose life is all private cars
and opera boxes and gowns from Paris,
goes there sometimes with crates, cases
OF cigarettes and Of butter and Of
sweets
WHATEVER comes the White Angel
Nv distributes Immediately. Tomor-
row, with its more than 1000 mouths
TO NIL, concerns her not at all. She
has that supernatural viewpoint that
makes all that unimportant; there is
but one hour in her scheme, this pres
ent hour She fills it full,
A sackload Of stale bread reaches
her; she knows not whence. but some
body begins to slice it. A truckload of
corn, not marketable, blocks her path;
she sets boys TO huSking 1t thankfully,
Corn for lunchl" is her only COM
ment. II shoes come in, the bare
footed are in luck; If hats arrive they
hnd owners at once nothing is
boarded
Does food never give out?"
1T never haS!"
But how long can you keep this up?"
Always, while they need it."