“God loves those who give cheerfully.” 2 Corinthians 9:7
To say that Kara’s first volunteer
experience at the soup kitchen was a “culture shock” might have been the
understatement of the millennium. At age
eleven, her refrigerator was not always the fullest, but her family always had
enough to eat. She was stunned at how
many people didn’t have enough food that Christmas Eve or family to spend the
holiday with.
That night changed her life.
The kitchen had been nearly full; icy cold Chicago weather
tended to bring in hordes of hungry people.
As sweat trickled down her back, Kara glanced at the plate count and
noticed they must have easily served 200 people already. The line stretched well beyond the door and
she prayed that they wouldn’t run out of food.
She marveled at the people that greeted her with friendly
smiles. Dan a small-statured man with a
wry grin, made a point of learning Kara’s name so that in case she returned,
he could greet her personally.
Wheezy didn’t sleep on the street like the rest of them, but
in a warehouse. At night, she crawled in
through a window and had never been caught. Seemed reasonable, except that Wheezy weighed
over 300 pounds and wore loud clothing that could be spotted blocks away.
Marge, a grandmotherly type in her early 60s with matted
gray hair, wore an ever present gap-toothed grin. She had a quiet dignity about her. Unlike the others, Marge placed a napkin in
her lap, kept her elbows off the table, and chewed elegantly with her moth
closed.
As the guests continued to pile in, Kara fell into a rhythm
- left hand, right hand, one serving each.
She looked up briefly and spotted near the back of the line, a boy with
piercing blue eyes. His shirt was
stained with what appeared to be grape juice; his hair filthy from the lack of
a shower. As he approached, Kara could see
hardship in his sad eyes.
She grabbed the thickest sandwich from her serving pan. But to her amazement, the young lad refused
it and pointed to his friend directly behind him. “I want the birthday boy here to have two
sandwiches on his special day. It’s the
only gift I have to give.”
Both boys were ecstatic; they who have nothing . . . and still
give.
Maybe he was just a homeless stranger, but to Kara that
child was much more. Maybe he was sent
by the Holiest of Spirits, to show her that no matter your net worth, you can
always help others. Even if it‘s just a kind
word . . . or a stale roast beef sandwich, your gift may be priceless to someone.
Lord, You say that the poor in spirit will
inherit Your kingdom. Please find a
place for those that live their lives disadvantaged and suffering. I also pray that You give me a heart for those
who have less, so that I always do your work here. Amen
