Kiss from a Stranger

It was Friday afternoon.  The hustle and bustle of the week was dying down, and really I was just looking forward to summer early dismissal.  As I went downstairs to the main desk to drop off mail that was ready to be sent, I saw a familiar figure slumped over on the couch.  I knew this face well.  He frequented the food pantry, he walked into the church regularly to be loved on, and he basically owned the corner where I got on and off the expressway each day.  He loved it when I got stopped by the red light, as he'd jaunt over and talk my ear off for 30 seconds before the green light beckoned me.  Anytime he'd see my car, he would smile that toothless grin and wave, his eyes smiling.  He was another statistic of our city. High school drop out. Recovering addict.  Homeless.  Full of love in his heart.

His age was hard to tell, but I found out as the ambulance arrived on that sunny afternoon he was 51. Wow, I would have guessed 40.  He was having trouble breathing. His face had fallen to an ashen gray, and the wheezing that occurred with each painful breath filled the empty space around him.  He was hungry.  Our front desk manager had taken good care of him, offered him a cool place to sit, and brought him some snacks.  I fixed him a can of ravioli, and went upstairs to get him a powerade.  The food was gone before I even came back, less than a minute later. But the labored breathing continued.  Suffering from COPD and Asthma, he was rather used to this problem.  He couldn't stand up.  They took great care of him as they strapped him onto the gourney and wheeled him out.  "Get better, you hear?"  I said softly.

Come Monday morning, a somewhat quiet and serene place in the summers.  Arriving at work, I got down to the usual grind.  But then my phone rang. I had a visitor waiting for me at the front desk.  As I descended the stairs, I saw that familiar face.  Grinning.  A beautiful sight.  His face full of color.  He came bounding toward me with his arms held open.  With that, he planted a big wet kiss on my cheek, and hugged me.  "Thank you Miss Amy. I'm feeling so much better now and I just wanted you to know. I'm coming in to get food tomorrow so I'll see you then. I gotta go to school today. I'm finishing up getting my GED. Gonna make something of myself Miss Amy, and you're gonna be real proud."  Well kiddo, I already am. Yep, already am.

V.I.P.

Tuesday mornings bring about much excitement. It's Food Pantry day, which means the line begins well before the doors open at 8:30am.  Thankfully this morning was breezy and beautiful as the sun came up.  Guests were waiting at the doors in their folding chairs, and a group was huddled around the picnic table underneath the shady tree.  I saw a sea of familiar faces, as well as a few new ones tucked in the crowd.  Laughing. Exchanging neighborhood news.  Resting.  I saw her, sitting on the curb.  Her skin was tanned to a golden brown, her nose a sun-kissed red from standing at the corner with her cardboard sign.  He was with her. He was always with her.  Word from others on the street was that she was a prostitute, and he was her pimp.  They were both homeless.

As Jerry opened the doors at 8:30am, they entered the building one by one, thankful for the cool air conditioning.  They greeted Jerry and playfully bantered with me as they found a seat.  So many of them have become like old friends to me.  Their stories become more full with each visit as we share more of our lives with each other.

I called next, and it was her turn.  She hobbled up to the desk, her body full with fatigue, and her face worn.  I remembered her name, the same as my mother's.  As I greeted her by name, her eyes lit up.  "Hi sweetie, how are you?" she asked.  She filled out her forms, and then gave me a grin, asking if she could have a word with me.  "Could I get a cup of coffee?" "Sure, let me get you one after I finish checking everyone in."  Huge grin.  "Thanks honey. Don't forget me."

After the last guest went through the check-in, I ran upstairs and grabbed two small cups of coffee.  I set them on the desk in front of me.  She saw me return and slowly came up to the counter.  Grinning from ear to ear, "Oh, thank you!" 

One of her friends, also homeless, was surprised to see her with coffee.  "How'd you manage to get that?" he asked, giving her a friendly smile.  To which she replied, "I'm a V.I.P."  He laughed, "A V.I.P, to who?"  "I'm a V.I.P. to her," glancing at me, then returning to her seat.

Thank you Lord, that all of us hold V.I.P. status in your eyes.

"For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in." Matthew 25:35