Calf length fur coat, oversized costume jewels and deep black curls that framed an aging beauty. Her disposition graceful and her words soft, but it was her smile that drew me in. It was a crooked smile lined with bright red lipstick that held a sadness that the bystander might miss. Her deep brown eyes revealed a shame, as they look downward and off to the side as she humbly asked for a half a piece of pecan pie. She didn’t want to appear greedy. She didn’t want to impose. She wore her best clothes, maybe her only clothes and tried to blend in. She held on to the bit of dignity she had left and tried to pretend that it didn’t bother her. She sought coffee for those around her and served them with that smile. She engaged in polite conversation, nodding and smiling as she listened to others share their stories. She cared deeply and the occasional sparkle in her eyes told me that she was listening to more than their words, but to their hearts. How a woman with such tenderness, such mercy, such inner beauty, could end up here, at a banquet for the homeless, was more than I could fathom. Handing her a half slice of pecan pie, I wanted to ask but I didn’t dare. I felt it would have been an intrusion of her privacy. Perhaps it would have brought to light what she was desperately trying to conceal.
As I swept the floor as people ate in an adjoining room, I thought about the people I had the opportunity to serve this night. How I expected them to be drug users, dirty and smelly, maybe even rude or aggressive. Sure, I saw some of that, but so much more than that, I was touched by the humanity. I was touched by the need. I was touched by the humbleness. As I swept, I kept thinking how I wanted to give everything I had. I wanted to give my best… I wanted to sweep the best I could, I wanted to scrub the counters the best I could because it was all I had this night…my service. Before I finished my task, I could not help but to stop, wrap an extra piece of pecan pie for the woman with black curls, and hug her tightly. I am sure I startled her for she said nothing but before she left she came into the kitchen and thanked me as she made a gesture to where she was sitting. I smiled and with tears in my eyes said, “Happy Thanksgiving Precious”. I did not want to leave. I got in the car and said to my family, “This is something we have to do”. Though I was referring to serving the homeless, I also meant that we have to serve others as Christ would…with a willing heart that sees others for who they are, not what they have.
We do not know the impact we have on someone’s life. But we do know we are not making a positive impact if we are not doing something. My cup is full and it has nothing to do with what I have or have obtained but because of Who I belong to and the heart in which He enables me to serve. I am thankful for my precious Savior.
