Making a Difference

As an organisation our key aim is to carry on with the work we do, and to do more. We’re not involved in rehabilitation, rehousing or reforming – just helping. We don’t see the people who come to our meals or accept our food parcels as our caseload - though often they become our friends.

We don’t monitor their progress or collect their personal information in a big file, we just know their first name and sometimes where they live. But we do know that we make a difference to many people’s lives. We can tell that by the look on their face and the things they tell us.

Messages from our Friends

Now and then we’ll receive a letter or a note from someone we’ve helped that reminds us why our work is important. This poem was written by one of our friends.

Ask the thirsty why they’ve no water, or turn on the tap?
Ask the lost why they’re wandering, or draw them a map?
Ask the drowning why they’re struggling, or throw them a line?
Ask the hungry why they’re starving, or lead them into dine?

We say it’s not our problem as we give opinion voice
It may not be our problem but it’ll always be our choice.
So ‘til the day that He returns, bringing Love and His Holy Word,
Let’s disturb the comfortable to comfort the disturbed.

And give the homeless people a place to lay their head,
Tell every nation’s victims their children will be fed.
Change our way of thinking, make a plough of every sword,
And testify the simple truth that Jesus is our Lord.

His love for us, beyond compare, let it be our guiding code,
And may we love each other thus as we walk this narrow road.
For in the end we will be asked if we have played our part,
And we’ll be judged upon that day on what is in our heart.

How Loaves and Fishes has changed my life...

Here’s a letter from one of our friends who has been helped by Loaves and Fishes.

"I stayed in a hostel run by the Council. The man next door to me stayed there nearly 20 years. Every day started the same; the porter banged the door at 8am. The death knock they called it. 20 years of this? No way.

I had three mates and it was always the same. Whoever had the money bought the carryout, always a dozen supers. They talked about everything and nothing and how they beat the system, and cried like weans when their giros were late. It doesn’t have to be like that. One night I went to a soup kitchen called Loaves and Fishes and met a man called Dennis. He gave me a ticket for a place called Oasis.

The next day I went there and had my dinner. I was sitting looking out the window. I thought, 'I used to live like this, everything clean, tidy, respectable people with things to look forward to. I could try and be the same again.'

I spoke to a care worker and got a place in a resettlement unit. It was starting all over again, how to run a house, budget your money, be responsible for myself. I went to a housing association and applied for a house.

It’s 11 months since I last had a drink. I still see my old mates. They’re still trying to beat the system. I’ve accepted it. It’s not easy, some days are hard but no way am I going back. I go out now with my head up instead of hanging down.

Who would have thought a wee man with a ticket could have started all that."