The Lady at Table 7

Matthew 9:36-38 - But when he saw the multitudes, he was moved with compassion on them, because they fainted, and were scattered abroad, as sheep having no shepherd.

There's no way you can suitably prepare your mind and heart for a homeless shelter. Even the signs on the streets going into the area make you wonder what you're getting yourself into. For a quick instant I thought perhaps a billboard should warn people and boldly read, “Welcome to ‘Povertyville.’  It could easily happen to you!” I admit I was getting a little anxious looking at the destitution and state of homelessness my fellow citizens were in. (I had convinced my husband I would be safe and that I was familiar with the area). However, it wasn’t long before I began to envision a carjacking or other frightening crime. It’s often easy to let your thoughts get away from you! Then I prayed – asked God to forgive my fear – and reminded myself that He is with me and I’m under His hand of protection. {Life Moment: Psalm 100 is a good passage to recite in anxious situations!)

I thought I was ready this month. I had volunteered several times before, and working in healthcare has given me a good foundation for assisting those in need. But when I arrived, followed the check-in procedures, and looked around at what I’d be doing for a few hours, I was instantly saddened. My heart began to beat a little faster as I saw women, children, elderly people of all descriptions sitting at the door amidst city trash, debris, and other mounds of unknown but filthy items. They were waiting for the lunchtime meal program.

A few flies buzzed above the noise of the steady clatter of dishes being washed and assembled. I felt a sense of despair as I looked at the dirtiness of those kids, the people on the streets patiently waiting, the flies, and the gentleman eyeing the bread table like a ferocious animal in the wild.

I stopped staring. Finally. And I got back to work. It was my job to serve the noodle mixture – it looked like chicken, peas, and wide noodles to me. The menu was noodles, garden salad, corn, rolls, and day old doughnuts for dessert. It looked pretty good. I regretted not bringing green pepper, orange wedges, or parsley to make the plate pretty. Make food pretty? For the homeless? I’ve been mocked and scorned for this by the much-loved crew – but why not? Everybody deserves a nice plate of food! We expect it when we eat out at a restaurant, right? We eat with our eyes first, is what my grandma used to tell me. It’s my way of showing I care.

After forty or fifty people were served, one of the crewmembers suggested that I help feed the lady at Table 7. She had made quite a mess at attempting to feed herself. Noodles were around her plate –not ON her plate – juice had run everywhere, her salad was astray on her clothes. She appeared to weigh less than 100 lbs. If I had to guess, I was say she had about three or four teeth to counter-set the 3 or four hairs she had poking out from the top of her shiny scalp. The adult diaper she wore needed changing terribly – or she may not have bathed in a solid month or two. I wasn’t sure. I knew she had walked into the room, but beyond that, she looked extremely frail.  My first thought, to be brutally frank, was, “Sure, I’ll help feed her. I just hope I can smile and not throw up because of the odor.” {Life Moment: Not all nurses have strong stomachs. As for me, I’m sensitive to smells}.

She did not speak as I sat down and introduced myself. I was certain to make good eye contact and speak slowly and softly. I tidied her plate up as best I could – did a ‘clean up’ in the immediate area around her. She ate a little with my assistance, but what she wanted most was for me to sit so close to her and hold her hand. She didn’t talk. She just patted my hand. Her hand was wet. It was moist and sticky. {Yes, I wondered if it was urine soaked – it took me a few seconds not to care about it!} It probably was. Don’t judge me too harshly – we nurses are trained to wear gloves for everything! Germaphobe is our middle name when it comes to body fluids.

I just sat there with “Table 7 Lady” as long as possible. Most of the citizens had left the cafeteria and returned to their day - whatever that would be - I’m honestly not sure. In that brief space of time, I was blessed with a newly found love.  I smiled and said, "I love you" to her. “I hope you’ll rest tonight, and come back tomorrow.”

She grinned – her mostly toothless, sweet, little grin – patted me on the hand and said, “I love you too, baby.” My eyes began to tear up! I had to look away for a moment to compose myself. I really do love this woman! She loves me too. What a gift from our Heavenly Father.

As I helped her stand up and button her coat, I noticed she was humming a little tune. I became quiet as a mouse. I thought I recognized the tune. I bent my head down to listen more closely.

...”I heard an old, old story. How a Savior came from glory. How He gave His life on Calvary...so save a wretch like me!” She hummed louder.

You bet I knew that song! Victory in Jesus! One of the greatest Christian hymns ever written in my estimation! It was written by Eugene Monroe Bartlett, Sr. in 1939. But, oh, how it still magnifies and glorifies the body of Christ so beautifully!

 I joined in – boisterously humming myself... We smiled silently. And we left the shelter holding hands. Then she walked to the left –and I to the right.

I hope to see her again. I have a feeling if I don’t see her again down here on earth; I’ll see Table 7 Lady in heaven some day!

Look UP my friends!