Tonight, I am in Boca Raton, Florida, one of the premier resort towns in the country - due to an award my beautiful wife won with AT&T. I could not be more proud of her. We are staying in a hotel we could never afford, and driving a rental car that is worth more than me. Luxury, truly at its finest. But Im not writing to brag (okay, maybe just a little bit on my wife), Im really writing to share an experience with you that I cannot get out of my head. This afternoon, as we were looking for the hotel, I noticed an old woman walking down the sidewalk. A complete contrast to her surroundings. She had three plastic grocery bags filled with what appeared to be some clothing and bedding, a cane and a small suitcase. We were waiting at a busy intersection, so I had some time to observe her. She was walking with a limp, and struggling to move the bags she was trying to carry. Saying she moved at a snails pace would be kind, it was painful and sad to see. As she moved along, conflict began to well up in me. I knew she needed help, but we were in an unfamiliar town, and trying to get where we were supposed to be. As I argued within myself, I noticed with relief a young man making his way toward her. Hes gonna help her, my wife said with a smile. Then I watched as he barely slowed, looked at her, and pointed at something. I could see what he was pointing at was a bus stop sign. She must have asked him where it was. Then, hardly breaking his stride, he went passed her. He didnt help her with her belongings - he didnt offer any help of any kind. He just sipped his cold beverage and went on with his life, with barely a delay. The busy traffic and four lanes of roadway would not allow me to get to her, and when we were finally able to move - I told myself to just keep going. Surely someone else would help her, or she knows what shes doing, I thought. But as I got further from her, my heart grew heavier as I could not bare the thought of her laboring in the 85 degree weather. I could not get that sight out of my head, and I felt like God was directing me to go help her (Have you ever had that small voice telling you to do something you dont want to do, but you know its something you should do - thats the one I was getting. I always feel like thats God, because its asking / telling me to do something wasnt my idea - meaning its usually inconvenient to my schedule). So, I gave in and instead of going on down the road, I made a u-turn and headed back. I parked the car in a the parking lot of a brand new Dunkin Donuts, fought my urge to go in and eat a few of the heavenly delights made therein, and ran up the street to find her. As I suspected, she had only gotten about 10 more feet down the road. I caught up to her quickly, and asked if I could help her. She smiled and told me she would appreciate it. So I grabbed her bags and asked her where she was headed. She said to the bus stop, through a heavy accent I could barely understand. When we got there, she lamented the fact that there was no bench to sit on, while she waited on the bus. She told me she had injured her leg, and was having a hard time standing. I quickly situated her suitcase into a seat, and asked her to sit. She said that she wouldnt be able to anyway, because her leg made it almost impossible to get up again. I asked her where she was headed, and she told me, but not being from the area, and due to her accent - I didnt really understand her. I pretended like I did, so as not to insult her and asked her where she was from. She told me she was from New York, by way of Croatia and Italy. As I listened to her, I guessed her age to be somewhere around 80, give or take a few years. She was extremely thin, I would have never guessed her strong enough to carry all of her things. This would not be the first time she would surprise me during the conversation. She asked me where I was from, said she liked my beautiful yellow shirt, and truly seemed interested in me. She told me she was looking for work, and during the conversation, I discovered she was homeless. She was getting on the bus to see if she could find some storage for her things and moved to a less tourist ridden area, so she could potentially find a place to sleep for the night in order to begin her search for a job tomorrow. She pointed to her leg and said she needed to get it looked at by a doctor, and that she needed to have her eyes looked at, because she was having a hard time seeing. As I looked into her face, I could see beyond the weathered, wrinkled skin to see eyes that appeared to be cloudy. I doubt very much that she could see beyond an arms length. I asked her again where she was headed, and she spoke a little clearer this time (or I was just more used to her accent), and I recognized the road she mentioned as one we passed on our way to the area we were now in. I offered her a ride, and she kindly refused, saying the bus would be here shortly. I asked her how long and she said 5 minutes or so. I quickly searched my wallet and pockets to see if I had any cash on me, that I might be able to give her. Nothing (my wife keeps all of that - Im not allowed any money she tells me). Then I offered all I could think of - a conversation about God. Now mind you, witnessing to a total stranger is terrifying to me, but I felt differently about this woman. I asked her if she was a praying person. Then, as if I handed her a thousand dollars, she lit up like a Christmas tree. She began to tell me all about God and His Blessed Son, Jesus Christ. She told me of all the times God had sent angels to her to save her life. Without Him, she said, I would have been dead a long time ago, but He continues to bless me with life. She told me of the many times strangers would ask to pay for her meals, give her clothes or help - when she had done nothing to deserve it. She said, I like to pay my own way, I dont want people paying things for me, but for some reason they insist. She pointed to her pants and shirt, and some clothes in her bags and told me an angel gave them all to her. She said without Jesus, she would have nothing. To me, and probably any of you, looking at her - she appeared to have nothing. But she talked as though she was the richest person on Earth. I looked at her in disbelief. I told her that Jesus was special to me too. She put a finger in the air and said she loved Him, because He died for the whole world, for her, and then poked her finger in my chest and said, He died for you too, He loves you and me, and all of us that much. I couldnt move. It was the sound of the bus that awakended me. There I was thinking I was coming to help this woman, and all she had done was bless me. She reached down and began to grab her bags, and I told her I would get them for her. She thanked me, and told me where to sit them inside the bus. I put them where she pointed, and walked back to her to help her to her seat. She reached up and gave me a big hug, and said, God bless you. I said the same, and then asked her name. She said Vetta, which again, understanding her accent a little better, I took for Vera. I stepped off the bus, watched the doors close, and then watched as she and the bus pulled away. I was just speechless and stunned. Here was this little old lady, with everything she owned in her hands, which were barely strong enough to carry it all, and she was off to find a job. She had nothing, but she had everything, because as she put it, I have Jesus, and He protects me and loves me. I turned to walk back to the rental car that I had been so excited to drive, and felt overwhelmed by Vera. The car meant nothing all of the sudden. I wanted more of what she had. I am a Christ follower. But I know I could not worship Him the she does if the roles were reversed. Im not strong enough, not even close. The whole experience with her, however, makes me want to be like her. I want to be a Christian that sings the praises of his Lord and Savior, no matter what. At the time of this writing, its 1:20 am in Florida, 12:30 am back in Missouri, and I cannot sleep. I just kept running the whole conversation and meeting through my mind again and again. I had to get up and write it down, more for me than you. I need it written down so that the fog of memory of and time cannot take any part of it from me. I will remember her face forever, but her words would have faded over time. I need it so I can re-read it, re-live it each time I feel sorry for myself, or when I know my walk is not where it should be. I met a woman today thinking I could take some time out of my important day to help her, and instead met one of Gods breathing, living angels. Vera is an angel - at least she was to me today. Im laying / sitting in an unbelievably comfortable bed, in an air-conditioned room, in a gorgeous resort - where you can get anything you want with just a phone call - and all I can think about is where is Vera laying her head tonight? Is she safe? Is she comfortable? Is she okay? I hope so, I pray so...If she is anything at all in her regular life like she was with me today, something tells me she is. Jesus, who loves her and whom she loves, is watching out for her as she put it. Im praying and hoping He sent some angels her way again tonight. Thanks, Vera. I hope we meet again, here or in the hereafter. I want to tell you thanks, face to face, and Id love to get another hug. And if you ever get to feeling down about things, I hope you remember Vera and remember what she said: Jesus is there and He loves you.
Posted on: Thu, 13 Mar 2014 05:24:21 +0000
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