I have a new assignment in my stake. Once every 14 months I am in charge of cooking and supervising the soup kitchen in our city. I have volunteered at the soup kitchen since we moved here 10 years ago, and I love working there, so I have been excited for September to come. On Tuesday we served chili dogs, salad, and cake to 120 people. Today, we made a beef vegetable soup, with fruit cocktail and a roll on the side, plus cake for those who wanted it. At the end of the day, the number of patrons who walked through our door was 97, including several children. In the past we have usually served about 60 people, and since it is the first part of the month that number often goes down by about 20 people. I think it is a sign of the times of how bad our economy is getting when the number of people we feed doubles. Sadly, today, I fed 2 sisters who I knew from my hometown. They didn't recognize me, but it made my heart skip a beat as I realized hunger and homelessness can affect anyone. It is hard work while we are there. After cooking all morning, I washed dishes for the entire 2 hours that we were serving food. However, lest you think I am complaining, think again. My experiences at the soup kitchen leave me feeling extremely grateful for how blessed most of us are. I always know where my next meal is coming from, even if it is only grilled cheese sandwiches. I know that my children will never go hungry, and that we will always have a roof over our heads and a warm bed to sleep in at night. I am grateful for these reminders in my life that even if the house isn't always clean, it's a house, and even though the grocery prices are steadily rising, at least I have money to buy groceries. Perhaps it is why I have one of my favorite scriptures form the Book of Mormon on my wall. It keeps things in perspective when I forget how blessed I am.