‘Miracle’ Jess sharing meals with love
- 2 hours ago
- 4 min read
Content warning: The following story contains references to family and domestic violence (FDV), and its impacts. If this is a sensitive topic for you for any reason, please proceed with caution.
BY KIRRALEE NICOLLE
The Salvation Army Noarlunga, a brick building in the coastal south-west of Adelaide, might not look like the typical scene for a supernatural event.
There’s no water to walk on, no holes in the roof – thankfully, and of course, there is no new wine.
But recent events speak to a kind of transformation which sees brick, mortar and even the trauma of abuse as no barrier to hope.
When Noarlunga Corps Officer Auxiliary-Lieutenant Deb Strapp describes the way Jess Priest came to volunteer at Noarlunga Corps, her eyes light up, and she says it is nothing short of miraculous.
When Jess first walked into the centre, she was looking for referrals to services. She had been forced to leave her rental and move into a new house. When she left the Salvos, it was with a piece of furniture for her new rental. Deb had been rearranging some rooms at the corps and wasn’t sure what to do with a couch they no longer needed, until Jess arrived.
“I was starting from scratch, and I just came in to talk to Deb and ask if there was any organisation [or] anyone that could help,” Jess says. “And she actually gave me a leather lounge suite, which looks brand new and perfect. I was really thankful for that.
“I wasn’t expecting a couch, just numbers that she could have given me that I could have gone elsewhere. But it just happened at the right time. It was such a big help and such a stress off [me] as well.”
In return, Jess wanted to give back in some way. And it just so happened that Deb was needing some help too. Two years ago, in 2023, the corps lost a much-beloved member of the volunteer team, Paul Norton. Paul was a key part of delivering Café Life, a community meal initiative served out of the corps. His sudden death was crushing to the team, and Deb had no one to fill his shoes.
Faithfully, Deb had set about a kitchen redevelopment, using a generous donation Paul had left to the corps. Now, she just needed a cook. With experience in catering for functions and a job in food service at an aged care facility, Jess was the obvious answer to the corps’ need.
“I just fell straight into the kitchen,” Jess says.
And the community meals, which happen twice a week, with brunch on a Tuesday and lunch on a Wednesday, mean far more to her than just a way to give back.
“It actually makes me very emotional, to be honest with you. They [the community members] leave full and fed. It’s good. It brings tears to my eyes and goosebumps, and I love it. Absolutely love it. I love seeing them come in so hungry [because] then they leave and they literally cannot fit anything else in.”
The darkness many who come in to eat her lovingly-cooked lasagnes, chocolate mousse and bacon and egg rolls feel is something Jess knows far too well. Over the past few years, Jess has been recovering from the effects of a dangerous and controlling relationship with someone she describes as narcissistic. The relationship lasted two years and left her homeless, traumatised and unable to walk.
“I stopped cooking,” she says. “I pretty much was locked in a bedroom [for several hours of the day]. I wasn’t allowed to use the toilet, I wasn’t allowed to eat, wasn’t allowed to drink. I pretty much got out of that and had to start living again.”
Jess says in the course of the relationship, she lost her passion for life, and even once she left, her anxiety was so high that she couldn’t cook for a long time. But volunteering at the Salvos, she says, has “brought it all back”.
She says she regularly encounters people from the community with a very similar story to hers, and being able to feed them is a healing experience. She has tears in her eyes as she describes the difference it makes to care for those who come in for a meal and a chat.
“I love seeing them leave with smiles on their face and hands on their tummies. It brings joy knowing that they have got somewhere to come.”
Jess’ children have watched her face the trauma of the relationship she left, and now, come out the other side. She says her children have noticed the difference in her since she began volunteering. She says one son recently said it was like he had his “old mummy back”.
“That was really touching,” Jess says. “That meant a lot. [He] says ‘It’s nice coming home and seeing you with a big smile on your face’.
“That means the world.”
If you or someone you know is struggling, help is available. You can reach out to 1800RESPECT, The Orange Door, or Lifeline on 13 11 14.
