Serving homemade soup at a Soup & Bread event at the Hideout.

People from all walks of life — folks in suits coming from work, homeless people in the area, hipsters, families, all coming together for homemade soup that’s pay what you can to raise money for local aid organizations — side by side at tables crammed into a bard and music venue.

We made a big pot of soup in a crock pot (the first time, I think it was a sort of minestrone) at home, letting it simmer for hours. We made at least six quarts. Then we drove it down to the Hideout and joined four to six other soup makers in the concert hall, up by the stage. Tables set up in rows down the middle of the room, with baskets of donated bread dotting them. A stack of plates, spoons, napkins and a donation bucket on a high top next to us. The doors officially opened and a line formed along one wall, people picking a soup to try first, us filling their bowls and then sitting down somewhere to eat — at the tables, the high tops along the walls,at the bar in the other room. Folks came up for seconds or even thirds; many wanted to try a little of each soup. After a couple hours all our soup was gone, and the donation buckets was full.

Realizing that even such a simple act of making soup and serving it to friends and strangers could be a uniting act of community, benefitting not just the people you feed but so many beyond them. Even that simple act can affect lives.

I hold onto it because it’s about the power of collective action — and collective compassion. Some people who are living well come and eat soup for free even though they can afford to pay. Some of the unhoused or at-risk people donate what they can. Most folks who are able donate a good amount; I’ve seen $20s and pocket change go in the bucket. *It doesn’t matter.* Everyone benefits, and everyone is fed.