When I drive on the parkways and expressways in the New York Metropolitan area, I'm one of thousands of anonymous drivers going to work or coming home. When I stop at my bank to cash a check, the post office to mail a letter, or the supermarket to buy some groceries, again, I'm one of a thousand anonymous people going about the ordinary acts of life.

Unlike most New Yorkers, I've been fortunate to have the opportunity to help serve lunch at the Interfaith Nutrition Network's soup kitchen in Hempstead, which provides 250 to 300 meals a day (Monday through Friday). When I'm working at the INN, I feel the importance of what I am doing and I see the appreciation in the eyes of the guests as they reach the front of the serving line and we put a plate full of delicious food on their tray.

At that moment, I'm no longer Mr. Anonymous. I'm the guy serving the corn. Someday, with enough experience, I hope to be the guy serving the mashed potatoes. After all, everyone is entitled to a dream.