On a good Sunday, this high energy, extroverted, extra priest is exhausted following worship. Add in a global pandemic and low iron levels, and well, it's not pretty.
Last Sunday after the service ended, I was sitting at my desk, getting my credit card receipts together (my treasurer is ruthless) when I was called to the parking lot. "There's a woman and her son out here asking for some help." I put on my mask and dragged myself outside, and I'll be honest, I was really hoping this was going to be quick and easy--like 30 seconds quick and easy so I could finish up and go home to sleep.
I asked her how I could help. She told me they had been living in her car for 2 weeks after she lost her job due to the pandemic. She said she'd just gotten a job at Wendy's and had found a room in a basement she could rent but she needed to put down $100 and she only had $40. I explained I couldn't give her $60 in cash (in addition to its not good practice from a discretionary account, I didn't have $60 in cash even in my own wallet), but I could give her my card and the landlord person could call me and we could figure out how I could pay the amount. I was telling her this at the same time as I was wondering how someone who had been living in her car for 2 weeks looked as good as she did--hair and make up clean and perfect.
I went back inside to get one of my cards glancing in the mirror and confirming the woman outside looked far better than me....
As I handed her my card she told me she couldn't even get to the house where she could move in because she didn't have any gas and it was 30 minutes away. That problem I could solve! I told her to follow me to the gas station one block away and I would fill her car up. I headed to my car and heard her mutter, "But you won't give me $60." I wanted to turn around and correct her--I was going to pay the $60 there was just a process that had to happen, but honestly, I didn't have the energy and I was still having visions of my bed. I just wanted to get this done.
She followed me--I wasn't sure if she was going to. She pulled in and I walked over to pay for her gas. I really really really wanted to just put my credit card in, get in my car, return to sort my receipts, and head home. But I'm a rule follower and I knew I had to wait for the receipt. I hoped her gas tank wasn't huge so it would fill quickly.
I have no idea how big her gas tank is because at less than 3 gallons and $5.31 in the car was full. My thoughts were not pure. A part of me wanted to double back and question her statement about not having any gas, but a) I didn't have the energy and b) as irritated as I was, I didn't want to be overtly unkind. I got the receipt and turned to go. "We're really hungry," she said. I took a deep breath and turned around, "Come back to the church. We have a Little Library we've turned into a food pantry. You are welcome to all that is in there." (I also knew it had just been restocked so it was indeed full.) "Well," she said, "What I really want is a roast chicken."
I honestly don't remember what I said, but I got back in my car and drove back to church. She did not.
Here's what I know and don't know today. I recognize she really just wanted the money. I don't know whether it truly was for a deposit for a room to rent (I never heard from anyone). I know her car wasn't really empty, but at least it was now completely full. I suspect she and her son were hungry (he looked to be about 13 or 14 years old and boys that age are always hungry). I don't know if she had taken anything from the Little Library at that time or in the days since. I know I was tired, judgemental, and annoyed. I know Kroger is directly across the street from the church. I know a roasted chicken costs $4.99. I know I didn't offer to go over there and buy her a roasted chicken. I know I could have.
Today I am left with this. Any food she took from the Little Library would feed them and fill their stomachs at least for that day, but a roasted chicken very well could have fed them and filled their souls for the days to come. Maybe she would have walked away with her roasted chicken annoyed she didn't get $60 in cash, but she and her son would have known there was someone who believed they mattered enough to take the time and to respond.
Maybe she wouldn't have been grateful. Maybe she would try to con someone else (if that's what she was doing). Maybe the whole thing was a scheme. But maybe a seed would have been planted--a seed that could grow into her son and her knowing they were beloved children of God worthy of dignity and respect no matter what.
I really wish I'd bought that damn roasted chicken.
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