A picnic table can trigger memories of barbeques, family gatherings, and company gatherings. The picnic table in the side yard of the Casa Maria soup kitchen is a meeting place where friends make sure everyone survived the night. 
The soup kitchen, on East 25th Street in South Tucson, is small adobe house that does not look like much at first glance, but gives the homeless in the area a welcomed retreat to have a cup of soup, a place to shower and a chance to meet others in the same situation.
People wait patiently in line for the 6:30 a.m. opening of the kitchen, which starts off with coffee, donuts, and bagels. Around 10 a.m., soup is handed out with a smile to anyone who walks up to the house, no questions asked.
Each morning, up as many as 700 people receive individual bags of food, and 225 family bags are given out to those in need after the soup kitchen closes at 11 a.m.
The bags are put together by volunteers and are comprised anything from sandwiches to canned goods that are donated by a local grocery stores like Safeway and Food City, and churches of any denomination.
Across the street from the kitchen is a place for the homeless to shower, brush their teeth, and pick up some clothes donated to Casa Maria.
Father David Innocenti, with the funding of the Diocese of Tucson started the soup kitchen in 1983. At that time food was served to around 90 people, mostly single men.
Casa Maria is one of 150 Catholic Worker Homes in the country, according to Brian Flagg, coordinator and volunteer of Casa Maria, and is very similar to the other worker homes.
“We all have a common tradition.” Flagg says, “We all beg money to every day practice the works of mercy and the works of justice.”
The soup kitchen does not receive funding from the government, according to Flagg.
Flagg has been volunteering at the kitchen since 1983. He is one of five people who live and work at the kitchen full time, for $10 a week.
Flagg finds working at Casa Maria rewarding because it “challenges the powers that be.” He spends his time trying to lift up the poor and let them know that they have a voice.
Casa Maria puts out a newsletter, and they also hand out fliers to people who come to the kitchen about upcoming events they are holding.
Flagg says one of his goals is “getting people here interested, and wondering why there is so much poverty, and getting them to fight to change things.”
Charlotte Speers is another volunteer who lives on site, and has noticed more families coming to Casa Maria, especially families from the neighborhood, to make sure their children have something to eat.
“No one comes here if they don’t need it,” Speers says. “No one takes advantage of Casa Maria.”
Ryan Glashaw, a former car mechanic, is 28-years-old and lives on the street. He comes to Casa Maria daily to meet his friends.
Glashaw and his friends try and stick together after they leave the kitchen, but if one goes astray, they all know to meet at the soup kitchen. This way everyone is accounted for.
When the group leaves Casa Maria they go downtown, grab the bus, and go to the labor hall to look for potential jobs. Eventually everyone has to find somewhere to sleep for the night.
Glashaw has an iPod he carries with him because he finds comfort in music. He mentions that a particular song that helps him through this time in his life is “Imagine” by John Lennon.
Glashaw and his friend Benjamin Cole, a 30-year-old former cook, are considering checking into rehab to deal with their individual drug addictions as a solution to get their lives back on track.
“I am 60 percent done with my starting over and drug addiction problem, but I need to go to rehab to close all the doors,” Glashaw says over “Imagine” playing in the background. “We are not going to move any further if we procrastinate going to rehab.”
Sheryl Rye found herself on the street after getting in a car accident when she was drunk and injured her foot, leaving her unable to work. Rye has been homeless for more than three years.
“[Living on the street] made me a strong fighter,” Rye says. “Sometimes I have to fight two or three times a day to protect myself.”
Rye is hypoglycemic and feels this leaves her at a disadvantage.
“Right now, I’m a dangerous mark,” Rye says. “Like on the Serengeti, the animals are going to go after the weakest point, I’m the weakest point because I’m sick.”
Thanks to Casa Maria, Rye has friends like Glashaw and Cole to look out for her when her energy is down.
“If someone is low energy, we try to pull the weight,” Glashaw says confidently. When Rye isn’t feeling well the friends pool their money to put her on a bus so she can meet them. They rest walk, to their destination, but want her to stick with the group.
Glashaw is hopeful that life will not be like this forever for his group of friends.
“The stupid things that we do, whether it’s sell drugs, sell your body, steal, we’re sick of it,” Glashaw says. “I’m ready for a good change for once.”
Over a cup of hot soup, the group sits at their picnic table every day covered by the shade of Casa Maria to plan different ways they can overcome poverty but most of all, help each other survive.
