Helen's Cafe

One of the first things people notice when they visit our church is that we eat--A LOT!  Every month for as long as I can remember we have a singing on the second Saturday of the month.  We eat afterwards.  Every Sunday morning after service, we eat.  Mema loved to cook for the people she loved, and was a firm believer in comfort food.  And when she cooked, she cooked for an army.  Maybe this is the reason why:

Back in the day, Mema worked as a waitress.  Then she opened a restaurant of her own.  The restaurant was located in a few different locations around downtown Tulsa.  These pictures are from 1123 S. Main where Helen's Cafe was located from 1964-1977.  

No matter where it was located, there were a few things customers could count on.  First of all, they would be treated like family.  Second, they were guaranteed to have a fabulous home-cooked meal.  Many people came to the restaurant for more than what was offered on the menu.  They wanted someone to listen, someone to pray for their needs.  The restaurant was more than a business, it was a ministry.  Maybe that is why it never made her rich--I am sure she gave away many plates of food.  No one was allowed to go hungry when Mema was around. 

I wish I could remember the restaurant, but I was only four years old when it closed.  Traces of that place are still very evident in my life.  (Stay tuned...the best story is yet to come!)  Most of us still have our own favorite recipe left over from Helen's Cafe, mine is homemade chicken and noodles.  Fortunately, Papa still knows how to make them. :)

But more than the food, the tradition remains.  If anyone comes to our church hungry, they will be fed.  There have been several people who tried to talk her out of having Sunday dinners at the church.  After all, it is a lot of work every week.  She wouldn't hear of it! In the months before she died, we had a group of neighborhood kids who were coming on their own to church. One in particular would eat three big plates of food every time.  Mema was convinced that little boy didn't get enough to eat during the week.  She had to make sure he had a good meal on Sunday.  Now that little boy was ornery!  He tore stuff up, made a mess, talked back to the adults--but he was learning.  He started cleaning up after himself (sometimes), and if he was disrespectful to someone, he would usually come back the following week and apologize.  Sometimes he would even snag some flowers from the neighbor's yard on the way to church to give to the offended lady.  We don't see him much anymore.  His house burned and we don't know exactly where he is living now.  The last day he came to church was the day after she died.  He cried.  I wish he would come back.  We would feed him.