By Thea Jarvis

On a blistery fall morning on Peachtree Street, the queue begins forming in the alleyway outside St. Luke's community kitchen before 9 a.m. Lunch isn't till 10, but those in line want to be sure of a place at the table.

Clad in light jackets and caps, they are a mixed lot, ranging in age from babies in their mothers' arms to an 80-year-old man who lives on the street and comes by every day.

They all have one thing in common-hunger.

For most, this will be THE meal of the day-all they can eat in 30 minutes from the church's simple menu of soup, sandwiches, coffee, tea and milk, supplemented by the yogurt or fruit St. Luke's can sometimes obtain from the Community Food Bank next door.

St. Luke's Episcopal Church has been feeding three to five hundred hungry people daily, Monday through Friday, for six years. What is more, during this time, the church has extended a hand of friendship, a faithful presence, to many who would otherwise know only the embrace of despair.

It was fitting, therefore, to hold the daylong workshop "Starting and Maintaining a Food Pantry" at St. Luke's, where a pioneer effort in food distribution to the poor has proven workable and worthwhile.

Close to 100 people crowded into the church's basement choir room Thursday, Oct. 29, to share ideas and confront the problems involved in feeding hungry people. Representatives from a wide variety of agencies, including the St. Vincent de Paul Society and Catholic Social Services, were on hand as organizational leaders and eager listeners, ready to learn more about improving the supply and distribution of emergency food.

In the initial panel presentation, Anne Sapp from the Poverty Rights Office of Emmaeus House stressed the need for sensitivity in determining a person's eligibility for food and reminded the group that "low-income people have a particularly difficult time negotiating through the system." She pointed out that those who come seeking food have often bottomed out in the area of self-esteem.

"Food is an extremely emotional issue...Being hungry in America is the ultimate failure-somehow you don't fit into the picture. Asking for food is a humiliating thing."

"Because (the poor) feel so bad," she continued, "they are angry and defeated. We try to give the impression that 'we're on you're side.'"

Guidelines for eligibility were discussed by Frank Franklin, a volunteer at the 12-year-old Druid Hills Community Center on Ponce de Leon Avenue in Atlanta.

Franklin observed that we have "yet to devise a foolproof system of screening" by which only the true nedy are served. The center, therefore, has a ready supply of peanut butter, bread, applesauce and canned beans, as well as application forms that help to insure client honesty while preserving client dignity.

He stated that while organizations must be careful to determine a person's real need for food, "You must have a 'there but for the grace of God go I' attitude."

Since most groups represented at the workshop operate with a plurality of volunteers-St. Luke's alone employs a daily core of 50-60 persons who voluntarily operate the community kitchen-Betti Knott, executive secretary of the St. Vincent de Paul Society, discussed the importance of dealing with volunteers in a direct and sensitive manner.

According to Mrs. Knott, volunteers need to know the goals and structure of an organization and what specifically is expected of them within that structure. "They like to feel loved, appreciated worth something," she said.

It is important to fit the volunteer into a job he can do well and happily, Mrs. Knott reflected, as well as invite volunteers to share in the decision and policy making end of an organization.

"(Volunteers) hired me-they are my boss," she stated emphatically. "If a professional takes over the volunteers' ownership you lose volunteers."

It was left to Edith Sutton, from the Central Presbyterian Church across from the state Capitol, to present the stuff that food pantries are made of.

Mrs. Sutton noted that "we prefer referrals-from the Department of Family and Children's Services, Grady Hospital-but we do have a lot of walk-ins,"-individuals who come in off the street, in need of emergency food.

The Central Presbyterian outreach, which includes a night shelter during the harsh winter months when street people are particularly vulnerable, packs food supplies according to the number and age of people in a family.

"Most come on the bus, so we have to fix something they can carry easily," Mrs. Sutton said. "One man told us he cooked his meal in a hubcap over a fire under a bridge."

Precisely because of situations like the one cited by Edith Sutton, and because of the real deprivation and hunger that exist in the substrata of affluent America, some early-rising parishioners of St. Matthew's Church in Winder drove over 50 miles to attend the food pantry workshop.

Ann Miller, a young teacher who looked more like one of her students, took the day off from school, accompanying Betty Cohran, long-time organist at the small rural parish, all the way to the heart of Atlanta.

"We want to get something started-we don't have anything permanent yet," Betty Cohran said with enthusiasm. "We'll try to assimilate the information and present it to the ministerial association we belong to, which has a rotating food pantry."

"We feel we want to take a vital, active part in community affairs," she continued, "but (the parish) is too little to do this and handle it on our own."

A little effort, a little spark, a little workshop. A lot of sharing, a lot of giving, a lot of love.

"Having a food pantry is more than a service-it's a reaching out to the community with love," Anne Sapp of the Emmaeus House had reflected earlier in the day. "We want to be part of the solution, not part of the problem."

The food pantry workshop was a good place to start.