This past week, along with all my classmates, I went to Masbia, a soup kitchen which donates free food to the poor and unfortunate, distributing various amounts depending on how big the family is. I stepped off the bus and saw people already lined up waiting for their chance to get free food for Shabbos andYom Tov.

When we first walked in, we were told to pack fruits and vegetable into bags; I figured this would be easy. Five minutes remained until opening time, and I volunteered to take the job that interacts with the needy people the most. How hard could it be? I have patience. All I have to do is write down what they want and tell the "runners" to get it for me. I would be able to sit down the whole time and just take their orders. But despite being told what the atmosphere would be like, I didn't fully get it. The store opened. The first two people that came to my table were a mom and a daughter. They immediately took the pen from my hand and did the order all by themselves. I tried to tell them that I was supposed to do it but they just looked at me confused. It was as if I was speaking a language that made no sense at all.

My friend then came over and started speaking to them in a language I've never heard before. "They only understand Russian. Russian is my primary language" he said. Now I understood their confusion. Just thirty seconds in to the day, the room was overfilled. People were yelling in different languages. "My order is ready?" Chinese words were being screamed at us over the Russian. I didn't understand any of it. My friend was trying to speak to people in Russian and calm them down. I then realized that these were desperate people who were coming here because their lives depended on it, and I understood what my job was.

After that shift left, I mentally prepared myself for the next shift of people. Three people sat down at my table. I didn't let any of them take my pen or place orders themselves. I had one girl at my table who knew English and Russian and she really helped. As the time went on, I became more comfortable addressing people that didn't understand me. I started pointing to pictures. I figured out that most of them did understand some English and I was able to calm them down before they got too frustrated.

There were times where the store was quiet and there were times when there were so many people inside that I couldn't even sit down. Over the course of the day we must have given food to four hundred people and filled some six hundred stomachs. Throughout the day I learned that there are people who are so unfortunate that they can not even afford simple groceries. I never thought that could even be possible in this country nowadays. I now realize that what we were doing was helping people with basic needs, who have no place else to go.

Visiting Masbia was a great experience and I advise everyone to go there and help out at least once.