humbling experience

*a very long entry with no pictures

i had an interesting experience today at work. around 930am our receptionist asked if i could come down to our lobby - there was someone who said they knew my boss, the owner. i immediately thought it was some irate customer or someone who felt entitled to some special price because they “knew” the owner. this usually means they saw his picture on our wall and remembered his name. after asking who it was, the receptionist couldn’t quite describe them to me, which made me even more annoyed to have to go down there. as i prepared myself, took a deep breath and grabbed my spiral and pen - i was ready to handle the situation. i saw the person standing at the receptionist desk and introduced myself and shook their hand. they met me with a smile, half-crooked and kind of shy. this women proceeded to tell me how she knew my boss and how they went way back. i could tell by her dress she had been through some rough times. i could tell by her speech that may be a little slow. she said my boss told her if she ever needed anything she could come by. i was still quite unsure what it was she wanted. I asked - and she said “just a couple of dollars, i’m hungry.” i didn’t know how to handle this. i wanted to give her what i had in my wallet and send her on her way - as if to not get too involved. i asked my boss’ son (my boss when the big boss is gone), what we should do. we came to a conclusion that we were going to start with buying her breakfast at the diner next door. he told me to find a place for her either for the night or a shelter that could take her to permanently and then we would give her money for food.. throughout this whole time we were asking her questions about herself, trying to figure out if there was anyone we could contact. she said her mom had passed away, her dad kicked her out and her brother had tried to rape her. she also said she was a drug baby, and that was why she talked the way she did. she had a social worker but couldn’t remember their number. she showed me her birth certificate, which she kept in her back-pocket. she was the same age as my mom. it was such a surreal moment for me knowing that this person in front of me had absolutely no one to turn to. i finally found a place to take her. as i was running around the pharmacy, trying to find an address, a work vehicle to take her in and someone to go with me, she just kind of wandered around the place. she asked me for some candy as one point, it reminded me of a child. ben was able to drive me and her to the place where she would stay. she fell asleep in the back of the car and the orange that i had given to her earlier had fallen under my seat. she woke up and was worried that she wouldn’t get it back. i assured her we would get it after we stopped the car. she was asleep again when we arrived to her place of rest (this was barely a 15 minute drive). i told her we would check her in and be right back to get her. i walked her to her room while ben carried her cart and belongings in behind us. i gave her a phone book and some money. i had her practice unlocking the door to make sure she could get in and out. she said thank you and we left.

i don’t know if we did the right thing. my boss asked me later what i would have done if this was a family member that i loved. i said i would do anything and everything for them, no matter the cost. i went on my run tonight and thought about it some more. i became emotional as i thought about myself running freely, for recreation, with a warm home for me to return. i thought about this women being someone’s mother. this experience rang clear its purpose when i got home and read the words to this hymn...

A poor wayfaring Man of grief
Hath often crossed me on my way,
Who sued so humbly for relief
That I could never answer nay.

I had not power to ask his name,
Whereto he went, or whence he came.
Yet there was something in his eye
That won my love; I knew not why.

my dad said that every lesson about the gospel and how to treat people is contained in these verses. i don’t know if what we did will change anything about this woman’s life, but I’ll never forget it.