The day in New York was always going to be brief; fly in by noon, depart by dinner. I had enough time to call a friend, share a meal, run some errands, and head for the airport.
My errand schedule involved food shopping for the girls. A quick dash up to China town for gluten and bean curd duck, a cruise over to the Lower East Side to Gus’ Pickles, and I would be done. Something tugged, letting me know that a swing over to Pearl’s was in order. I was mentally calculating, just enough time. I know the truth statement; “if you keep a cool head, you’ll avoid rash bargains,” (Proverbs 11.15) so I followed the Spirit’s lead.
I walked fast, tugging at the plastic bags full of goodies. As I cut through the back alleys of downtown, I came up from behind and passed stranger after stranger. I always look, wondering beyond reason if you will know the face. As I passed yet another face there was a look of surprise on his face.
“How are you doing?” I thought I might but my puzzled look said otherwise. “You don’t remember me, do you? Remember the security guards at 111 Wall? Remember Jose? That’s me.”
A flood of memories came back; Jose’s ready smile, consistent and steady politeness, and someone always willing to help.
“Remember Sandra Johnson? That was my mother. I will always treasure the fact that the people at Citibank helped me have a proper funeral.”
The story that spilled out as we walked is not unusual anywhere. Lost family, corporate outsourcing and lost employment, nervous breakdown, and long period of recovery. We all know of the pain of bits and pieces of this story. Some have faced complete portions of it. Yet the spark in his eyes was back.
“I know my mom would want me to do something with my life.”
God offers unlimited hope to each of us. Jose’s voice echoed this hope. It is a gift for you and for me. Freely receive – freely give.
