oh, my, the people...the people Jesus would call "the least of these." So many people, lined up and patiently waiting for the meal we would serve them. Quiet, hungry, needy...and respectful during the prayer. Hats taken off, heads were bowed, even a few "amens" were voiced.
As a group, they looked raggy, dirty, and cold... in a word, homeless. But as they started filing through the line, and came toward me, they became individuals...
My job was to hand out the chapstick. Chapstick is a much appreciated luxury. For those who spend long hours outside, chapstick protects lips from the elements. But I also learned it soothes chapped hands and relieves the pain of scrapes and cuts.
As I offered the chapstick, the "group" became "individuals": the middle aged man with the grizzled beard, the Hispanic man who couldn't speak English but gratefully accepted the chapstick, the man in the wheelchair, the college aged guy who had been on the street for awhile now, the middle-aged woman with the little boys, the old man in the overalls, the young woman with the "interesting" eye makeup, the tanned and wrinkled man with the pale blue eyes, and many, many more.
Some of the interactions lasted more than a few seconds when the serving line got a little congested or when someone was inclined to talk. I remember the obviously homeless man who told me he hadn't eaten in two days and wondered if it would be ok for him to have seconds and another homeless man who shared with me the wonders of chapstick. There was a young mother who was indignant at the behavior of a couple who nibbled at their food and exited the building, leaving their mostly full plates of food on the table. One man, probably in his thirties, noticed my scout uniform and mentioned he had been a boy scout when he was a teenager. I wanted to hug the cute little preschool girl whose eyes sparkled as I gave her a tube of chapstick.
Later in the evening, I still had some chapstick left, so I was wandering around, asking people if they wanted some more. Without fail, they told me I had already given them some. But when I said I had extras to give away, most were grateful to take another tube.
There were only a few children and they mostly seemed to be very subdued, even during the gift distribution. Except for one little girl, who was inclined to be chatty and very thrilled as she showed me her toy and the books she had been given.
I had a seriously scary moment when I noticed that the man in the wheelchair had dropped his hat on the floor and I went to pick it up and hand it back to him. He couldn't seem to take it from me and then his head dropped to his chest and I kinda freaked out and ran a few steps back to our scoutmaster to get some help. Within seconds, the church leader joined the group and bent over him. The guy lifted his head, and kinda just looked at us. I heard later that he told someone he had had a seizure.
The church had some clothes and shoes for the adults as well as some Christmas toys for the children. There weren't enough shoes and clothes for all, as the leader told the crowd, but they would give as the Lord provided. He told me later that the people get anxious in situations like this because they know there isn't enough for all but they need some of this stuff so desperately. They obeyed the rules, they stood patiently in line, they didn't complain. I was impressed, having witnessed some embarrassingly rude behavior earlier this week at Walmart.
There were some people who came up and thanked us for serving them and to them I answered earnestly and sincerely, "It was my privilege."
"Lord, when did we see You hungry, and feed You, or thirsty, and give You something to drink?" The King will answer and say, "Assuredly, I say to you, inasmuch as you did it to one of the least of these My brethren, you did it to Me." Matthew 25:37,40
Indeed, it was my privilege to serve Him by serving the least of His brethren.
No wonder the poor guy had issues.
