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That Christmas Cake

1
Do you remember the first time you tasted chocolate? Or beer? Or cake?
I remember the first time I tried icing on a cake. I was 24 years old and had recently started working at the YMCA.

I am from Romania originally; instead of cake we have gateau. Before moving to Britain, I did not know what icing was.

Part of my first role at the YMCA was running the Cooking Club on a Wednesday morning.  The rest of the week, as key worker, was spent in meetings with the people living at our project, appointments with partner agencies and generally trying

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2
to make a difference.

Wednesday mornings were different. I was taken off the rota and would spend the whole morning in the Cooking room on the top floor of the building, overlooking the sea.

I was a food novice: wholly unable to make a decent sandwich. Thus, terrified to run a club focused on gastronomy.

My fear was soon cured: to run the club, I did not need cooking skills. Not in the traditional sense, at least.
The people coming through the door every Wednesday at 10am already knew what they wanted to make, and if they did not, there were

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3
plenty of recipe books around. Together, we learnt how to make cauliflower cheese, toad in the hole (that’s right!) and even shepherd’s pie (all dishes I had never heard of).

I listened to many heart-breaking stories and learnt many life lessons, every Wednesday morning at 10am.

There was one man in particular who would come every week. No exceptions; no days missed. Let’s call him Tom.

He always wanted to make the same type of cake – an iced Christmas cake.

Tom always brought all the ingredients with him and had the

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4
proportions memorised by heart. He needed no support. Slowly moving about the kitchen, never saying a word. Just working quietly to finish his intricate work.

Once the cake was in the oven, he would make himself and others a cup of tea and sit at the table. Only speak if he was spoken to, never divulging anything from his own personal journey.

There, at the Cooking Club I understood I was hooked to this career. That was when I first appreciated how therapeutic spending time with people could be. For them, yes, but also for me.

Spend some time

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5
with someone who needs this Christmas, or donate to one of the many charities who will strive to provide meals and company to people who might otherwise be alone at Christmas.
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that christmas cake

- 14 Dec 18

Do you remember the first time you tasted chocolate? Or beer? Or cake?
I remember the first time I tried icing on a cake. I was 24 years old and had recently started working at the YMCA.

I am from Romania originally; instead of cake we have gateau. Before moving to Britain, I did not know what icing was.

Part of my first role at the YMCA was running the Cooking Club on a Wednesday morning.  The rest of the week, as key worker, was spent in meetings with the people living at our project, appointments with partner agencies and generally trying to make a difference.

Wednesday mornings were different. I was taken off the rota and would spend the whole morning in the Cooking room on the top floor of the building, overlooking the sea.

I was a food novice: wholly unable to make a decent sandwich. Thus, terrified to run a club focused on gastronomy.

My fear was soon cured: to run the club, I did not need cooking skills. Not in the traditional sense, at least.
The people coming through the door every Wednesday at 10am already knew what they wanted to make, and if they did not, there were plenty of recipe books around. Together, we learnt how to make cauliflower cheese, toad in the hole (that’s right!) and even shepherd’s pie (all dishes I had never heard of).

I listened to many heart-breaking stories and learnt many life lessons, every Wednesday morning at 10am.

There was one man in particular who would come every week. No exceptions; no days missed. Let’s call him Tom.

He always wanted to make the same type of cake – an iced Christmas cake.

Tom always brought all the ingredients with him and had the proportions memorised by heart. He needed no support. Slowly moving about the kitchen, never saying a word. Just working quietly to finish his intricate work.

Once the cake was in the oven, he would make himself and others a cup of tea and sit at the table. Only speak if he was spoken to, never divulging anything from his own personal journey.

There, at the Cooking Club I understood I was hooked to this career. That was when I first appreciated how therapeutic spending time with people could be. For them, yes, but also for me.

Spend some time with someone who needs this Christmas, or donate to one of the many charities who will strive to provide meals and company to people who might otherwise be alone at Christmas.

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