King’s Hawaiian Rolls

I stood in the parking lot and stared up at the VOA Homeless Youth Resource Center,

gulping in nervous anticipation. I wondered, was this really where Detective McKenna told me

most the homeless teens congregated in Salt Lake City? As I walked toward the entrance, I heard

my family fall into step behind me, feeling their reactions as strongly as if they were being

exhaled onto the back of my neck. With the 2019 NCSL statistics of 29% dealing with substance

abuse, 69% experiencing mental health issues, and 50% having been in the juvenile system

running through my head, I entered the building, and a whole slew of sensations assailed me,

stopping me in my tracks. The main commons area smelled like it was full of clothes worn too

many times, and the dominating emptiness and deafening silence knocked me slightly off

balance. Once my senses had grown used to these sensations, my feet began to work again, and I

was able to walk to the kitchen.

Once I arrived, I began cleaning the bowls and pitchers we would use. With every item

washed and the stale dust on the rims gone, my nervousness lessened. As I filled up the pitchers

with drinks, the well that had held the nervousness in my mind began to fill with confidence and

anticipation for this new experience.

Half an hour after we finished preparing the lunch, they began to arrive. Wearing

everything from tattered sweats to old construction clothes, the homeless teens lined up. I noticed

many who smiled anxiously, seeming to hold themselves with an air of nervousness, while others

walked around without emotion as if they were carrying the world’s weight on their shoulders.

At the end of lunch, a black kid came up, acting as if he wanted more food, but saying

nothing to confirm my suspicions. As he stood there, I noticed he kept eyeing the King’s

Hawaiian rolls, as if they were some sort of treasure just out of his reach. My uncle finally asked,
“ I noticed you looking at these rolls, how many do you want?”

A long pause separated my uncle’s question from the kid’s answer.

“Seven,” the kid said. “I want seven.”

“Seven? Okay sounds good!”

My uncle then handed him those seven rolls, which he took with a big smile on his face.

Seeing this, a realization hit me: how many kids are living like this where it makes their day to

get King’s Hawaiian rolls for lunch?

After cleaning up, I realized only 20 kids had shown up. According to a 2018 study of

homelessness in Utah, this is a miniscule fraction of the 15,000 teens that experience

homelessness yearly. Realizing the enormousness of this issue, I noticed a larger problem that we

need to fix in ourselves. Why do we worry about what the world thinks of us, what we look like,

and what we wear, when certain kids in our community are happy to get seven King’s Hawaiian

Rolls for lunch?