This mom dishes out kindness

They're grown men, they might be a foot taller, and at least as old as she is if not quite a bit older — yet some of them still insist on calling her "Mom."

And when they do, Agnes just smiles.

So what if it's a physical impossibility?

Agnes Martinez, 43, is manager of one of Salt Lake City's most consistently popular restaurants. Every day she supervises the serving of anywhere from 600 to 1,000 meals at the St. Vincent de Paul dining hall run by Catholic Community Services, also know as the homeless soup kitchen.

Her customers are hungry. Real hungry. And not just for food. Kindness and warmth is in short supply out on the streets. So is a listening ear. Agnes has a limitless supply of all three.

For the past five years, ever since she was hired, Jose Lazaro, director of emergency services for CCS, has watched Agnes work her magic with the dining hall clientele.

"She's a very caring person. She's warm. She's easy to talk to," he says. "She listens. Sometimes she gives advice. Sometimes she doesn't. For many of those she's talking to it might be the only conversation they've had in a couple of days. She treats them all the same. She treats them all special."

Nobody trained Agnes to do what she does. She has no degrees in sociology hanging on the wall. She's no board certified therapist. She got pregnant when she was 15. She dropped out of high school.

She's seen her share of what they call life. She watched her dad physically abuse her mom until they divorced. She's the oldest of nine kids and ended up being a "second mom" to all of them. She's been divorced herself. Her husband spent time in prison. She's raised four grown children and has five grandchildren.

Agnes dispenses the details of her life story freely, without qualm. It's who she is, and it has a lot to do with why her compassion quotient is so high.

"The hard times they're going through and all that other stuff," she says, motioning in the direction of the people filling her dining hall, "I understand them. I've had a hard life too."

She credits her capacity for kindness to her grandparents, Aggie and Ramon Ortiz, who raised her on Salt Lake City's west side.

"We were poor growing up, but my grandparents taught me morals and values," says Agnes. "They're the most amazing people I ever met. They taught me that no matter who it is, treat them the same, treat them with respect."