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Hot Sauce

Honor The Homeless / Hot Sauce

About the poem

People kept asking us for something spicy to go in there soup. So we brought Hot Sauce. People complained it was not hot enough. So Kip began making hot sauce in 2015. By 2017 it was a staple of our service. The people loved it. They understood it was made from scratch especially for them. They started calling our ministry the Hot sauce Man.

One freezing cold February night in 2017 a woman approached us during a service. She said, “these guys have been arguing all day about what kind of soup you were going to bring. It made me so frustrated I was tired of hearing it! So I did what my therapist told me to do to calm myself… I wrote a poem. It’s about you. It’s called the Hot Sauce Man.”

We had never seen this woman before and we never saw her again. She is known to us only as the unknown homeless poet.


It’s 30° and I’m down on my knees
Please let him come, Lord, I’m begging you please
Out of the night he pulls up with a smile
He says come to my truck, let’s talk awhile
Wonderful soup is his language of love
With a warm piece of cornbread sent from above
And a special sauce that he makes like no one else can
That’s why we call him the Hot Sauce Man
Beef, chicken, cabbage, with beans
His soup is the best if you know what I mean
And he serves his soup from a giant drum
And he keeps on serving as long as they come
When we thank him he says praise I do not deserve
You speak of my father the one whom I serve
And as his truck disappears into the night
We thank our Father for now we’ll sleep tight
Bless him Father as only you can
Thank you Lord Jesus and God bless
The Hot Sauce man

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