How we remember it’s worth getting up in the morning

Michelle Thomas stands in line to get a breakfast burrito and pick up two peanut butter sandwiches to get her through the day. But what waits at the end of the line is what she most looks forward to. She inhales.

“Do I smell coffee, or am I dreaming?” Thomas asks.

It’s been three months since there’s been coffee served at the Society of St. Vincent de Paul in Phoenix for people who are homeless. Because of the coronavirus, the morning meal was moved outside instead of being served in the dining hall. A limited number of volunteers, seven on this morning instead of the usual 20 to 30, can be there to help serve. Minimal staff is on-site.

Inside, it took four volunteers to serve coffee from electric urns. There are no outlets outside. Bobby Plattner, the dining supervisor, knew his guests were missing their morning coffee.

Now coffee is made inside and served outside from a yellow Igloo cooler, 30 gallons of it. It takes just two volunteers to fill the Styrofoam cups.

“Could I get two, please?” Dustin

Snoddy asks.

“I love coffee. It wakes me up,” Snoddy, 33, says.

Snoddy spends his days inside the Phoenix Convention Center, the only place he can stay cool since libraries and community centers are closed. He sleeps in an overflow shelter.

Snoddy nods at the volunteers. “Bless you,” he says.

The coffee feels like a blessing, Thomas says. She also takes two cups and thanks the volunteers for the packets of sugar and powdered creamer.

Thomas needs the caffeine after sleeping outside. It’s hot and dangerous, so the 48-year-old sleeps fitfully.

Coffee is a luxury when you are homeless, Thomas says. But the smell of it, and that first sip reminds her it is worth getting up every morning.

The world moves quickly; coffee gives us a moment. We breathe in the aroma, sip it slowly. It lets us wade into the morning, giving us energy to start the day.

“It’s one of those comforts,” Plattner said. A comfort of home, even if you don’t have one.