See What's In the Box

story by: Lisa Petrarca

She walked into the dismal, smelly building, she was on a mission and hardly seemed to notice. The warm paper, carefully resting in her hand. Moving quickly down the hallway, the gold bow shimmered as the light reflected on it. Last week Mrs. Shoney took the entire class to visit the "old persons" home. Kallie was afraid at first but then realized that these were grandparents, they were lonely and seemed to cheer up as the class entered the room. Everyone except the gray haired man who sat alone in a chair staring out the window, he never joined the group. Kallie couldn't get him out of her mind. That night she went home, grabbed her kit and began to make him a present. She rushed home from school everyday to work on it. Her mother asked, "What are you making that's so important?" "My friend is lonely and sad, I need to give him a present," Kallie replied. "What friend?" her mother further prodded. "The gray haired man, at the old persons home. I need to give him something he needs," Kallie said. A few days before Christmas, Kallie's mom took her to deliver her present. Looking carefully into each room she finally spotted him at the very end of the hall. He was sitting watching the rain drops hit the window. Kallie ran in and shouted excitedly, "Mr., Mr., I have a present for you!" He slowly turned, the tears in his eyes looked like the rain drops sliding down the window. She said, "Are you okay Mr.? I brought something for you to cheer you up, something your missing." "I'm sorry little girl, but what I'm missing is gone forever and I'll never get her back," he muttered. She walked towards him, slowly opening her hand she gave him the small box. He unwrapped it, sitting inside was a crotchet heart with a picture of Jesus. The man began to cry and said, "Years ago my wife made a heart exactly like this for our Christmas tree and put it up each year. The last Christmas she was with me, she couldn't find it. She was so ill and said she needed it up, she needed to see Jesus' face. I searched through all the boxes and never found it. She passed away the day after Christmas. Thank you for showing me that I'm not alone." Rest for the Weary At that time Jesus said, "I praise you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and learned, and revealed them to little children. Yes, Father, for this was your good pleasure." Matthew 11:25-26 "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light." Matthew 11:28-30

Finding Joy

A LITTLE BIT OF JOY

Twenty years ago, I drove a cab for a living. It was a cowboy's life, a life for someone who wanted no boss. What I didn't realize was that it was also a ministry. Because I drove the night shift, my cab became a moving confessional.

Passengers climbed in, sat behind me in total anonymity, and told me about their lives. I encountered people whose lives amazed me, ennobled me, made me laugh and weep. But none touched me more than a woman I picked up late one August night.

I responded to a call from an old brick building in a quiet part of town. I assumed I was being sent to pick up some partyers, or someone who had just had a fight with a lover, or a worker heading to an early shift at some factory in the industrial part of town.

When I arrived at 2:30 a.m., the building was dark except for a single light in a ground floor window. Under these circumstances, many drivers would just honk once or twice, wait a minute, then drive away. But I had seen too many poor people who depended on taxis as their only means of transportation.

Unless a situation smelled of danger, I always went to the door. This passenger might be someone who needed my assistance, I reasoned to myself. So I walked to the door and knocked.

"Just a minute," answered a frail, elderly voice.

I could hear something being dragged across the floor. After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 80s stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940's movie.

By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets. There were no clocks on the walls, no knick- knacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.

"Would you carry my bag out to the car?" she said.

I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman. She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb. She kept thanking me for my kindness.

"It's nothing," I told her. "I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother treated."

"Oh, you're such a good boy," she said.

When we got in the cab, she gave me an address, then asked, "Could you drive through downtown?"

"It's not the shortest way," I answered quickly.

"Oh, I don't mind," she said. "I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way to a hospice".

I looked in the rearview mirror. Her eyes were glistening.

"I don't have any family left," she continued. "The doctor says I don't have very long."

I quietly reached over and shut off the meter. "What route would you like me to take?" I asked.

For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator. We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds.

She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl. Sometimes she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.

As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, I'm tired. Let's go now."

We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico. Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up.

They were attentive, watching her every move. They must have been expecting her. I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.

"How much do I owe you?" she asked, reaching into her purse.

"Nothing," I said.

"You have to make a living," she answered.

"There are other passengers," I responded.

Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me tightly.

"You gave an old woman a little moment of joy," she said. "Thank you, Dear."

I squeezed her hand, then walked into the dim morning light. Behind me, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life.

I didn't pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly, lost in thought. For the rest of that day, I could hardly talk. What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?

On a quick review, I don't think that I have done very many more important things in my life. We're conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments.

But great moments often catch us unaware - beautifully wrapped in what others may consider small ones. -- Author Unknown

Stop and reflect on the small moments in your life that have made a huge impact. They say that Jesus is present in your everyday situations. He is revealing himself and giving you opportunities to reach out to others everyday. We need to learn to take on Christ's nature and reach out and love others unconditionally. Look for those moments in your day that can impact someone's life.

"Assuredly, I say to you, inasmuch as you did it to one of the least of these My brethren, you did it to Me." Matthew 25:40