A square, gray cloth purse was perched over her bony left shoulder. Her white hair was pressed perfectly still as she scrunched her drawn face, spotted from age and wear. “Excuse me, miss,” she said, crookedly extending her shriveled finger, as she tucked on her fading blue wool cardigan. Apparently I had interrupted her ranting—the bodegas didn’t want to take the empty soda bottles she had collected. “Now I have to sit on my tush all day,” she said, to 30-year-old Ted Walker, who nodded his head. They stood on the steps of the Catholic Worker House, waiting for dinner to arrive.

Known as MaryHouse, this Lower East Side Catholic Worker House shelters the poor, feeds the hungry, and advocates for social justice. The Catholic Worker House was originally a newspaper, co-founded by Dorothy Day, an American journalist, and Peter Maurin, a low-income worker. The first paper hit the stands on May 1, 1933, in the midst of the Great Depression. The paper sold for a penny back then and more than 70 years later still does. Eventually the organization became a house of hospitality, to meet the needs of community members.

“We try to respond to the present state of our society,” said Walker, a volunteer at MaryHouse. And whether that’s serving a hot meal and providing a warm bed, or protesting the war and rallying for the shutdown of Guantanamo, “it’s all connected to us, from the poverty here to the war out there,” he said.

Dinner was served around 5:30 p.m. Steam permeated the kitchen as large metal containers were uncovered. The evening’s menu: a hot serving of seasoned and browned potatoes, a colorful salad, and a side of red beans. About 12 women had streamed into the dining room, all sporting an assortment of hats: a gray beret, a brown cowboy hat, a beanie, and a bandanna. But underneath those hats, they all seemed to carry another burden.

“We mainly focus on women,” explained Walker, “we want to give women a safe place because many of them have complicated histories.”

Despite being rooted in the religion of Catholicism, MaryHouse does not preach or require members to attend services. “No ties, no questions asked,” says Walker. “This is a last ditch solution for many women who have no papers and have exhausted the shelter system.” MaryHouse retains no formal communication with the church and is not formerly recognized by the government. Funding comes from individual donations.

“We try to keep it low key,” says Walker, who has been living in the house for six months along with 30 other residents, both homeless and unpaid volunteers. “I’ve gotten to know most of these people really well.” “We try to keep it personal,” to form a closer-knit environment—a community feeling that is reflected in the décor.

Pictures of Martin Luther King Jr., Pope John Paul II, and Mahatma Gandhi coat the walls, along with Crayola-colored children’s drawings. A warm classical tune plays in the background accompanied by scraping dishes and interspersed laughter.

Women and volunteers are spread about the area used as a dinning room, congregating in groups of four around bare wooden tables. Conversations remain lively.

“You ready for February 17th?!” beckons a short black woman sporting the bandana. “Get ready for HD!”

“There’s a certain freedom about living in community and having support of a community,” says Walker. “It’s my life.”