By Thea Jarvis

Two oversized pots of smiling red geraniums flank the steps leading to the Open Door Community of Ponce de Leon Avenue in Atlanta. Up the walk, a stand of golden marigolds welcomes daily visitors.

Many who come have heard of Open Door through friends and acquaintances on the street. Some have happened by and noticed the semblance of a queue outside the unpretentious brick building. Others have been referred by local service agencies.

But almost all arrive at the Open Door because they need a little help getting by.

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On a drizzly, overcast summer morning, the line outside number 910 Ponce de Leon Avenue starts to form early on. "Street people" around town -- those without a place to go or the means to get there -- know Open Door is a reliable place to come when your pocket is empty and your luck is running out.

Before lunch is served, a steady stream of seekers makes use of the community's shower facilities, telephone, and "clothes closet."

"Number nine, we can get you into the showers now," says Dougherty, a fresh-faced volunteer with clipboards in hand who manages to put warmth and friendliness into her simple directives.

Meanwhile, in the house kitchen, peanut butter and jelly, bologna, and cheese sandwiches are thawed, crackers are set out in large plastic bowls, and cold tea is readied.

Today's "soup kitchen" fare is sans soup. The original wood flooring of the dining area is being stripped and refinished. It will be several weeks before luncheon guests can be transferred from the narrow hallway that runs the length of the residence and returned to the airy dining room that adjoins the kitchen.

Joan, an Open Door resident who came to Atlanta from Maryland, and Matthew, a young theology student from Emory, have drawn kitchen duty.

Between sandwich-making and tea-pouring, Joan is asked how one becomes a guest at Open door.

"Just be down and out," she replies with candor.

Such down and out status does not make those who line the hallway outside the kitchen less than welcome. It is precisely their need that the arms of Open Door seek to embrace.

Eddie, a construction worker heading over to Birmingham, heard from a friend that he could "have a sandwich or two" at the soup kitchen. Lionel, a young loner in army drag, says the Open Door is "an option -- a place to go instead of walking the street."

There is no one "type" to be found in the ranks of Open Door guests. Visitors awaiting fresh clothes, showers and nourishment are black and white, male and female, unshaven and shorn, tidy and tattered, quiet and noisy, friendly and shy -- a representative mix of people experiencing some hardship that has led them to ask for help.

Many have been on the periphery of society for years. Others are temporarily strapped. Lack of work is a recurrent source of concern. A neatly-dressed man quietly bemoans the elusiveness of steady employment. He is courteous and well-spoken. There is a trace of alcohol on his breath.

Sipping tea and munching sandwiches in the makeshift lunchroom, visitors exchange news, share histories, and view the future from the security of Open Door's walls before venturing back to the street and its fickle promises.

These same walls that welcome daily guests also provide shelter for some 20 - 30 other men and women on a resident basis.

Residents are generally persons without income, often disabled or unemployable. They are served three meals a day and have access to all Open Door facilities, as well as an open invitation to participate in the running of the household.

Once a week, the Lord's Supper is celebrated in the dining room, and Bible Study is offered Tuesday evenings. Residents are not, however, required to attend. While many can be found each week at the scripture class, Open Door operates on the premise that those seeking sanctuary need "free space," giving them a measure of independence within a protective structure.

The occurrence of such a phenomenon in the midst of a society fragmented by indifference and split by an increasing gap between the "haves" and "have nots" makes Open Door a clear witness to Christian paradoxy.