I was sitting in Panda Express today, eating lunch. As I watched the lunchtime crowd quickly move into the place, through the line and out of the restaurant, I saw an older Caucasian woman, with brilliant white hair dressed for an energetic day of errands. She came up to the glass to see what they were offering. I work near an area with a large population of retirees, so there was nothing strange about seeing her there, but she caught my eye for some reason. I wondered if she knew her way around the Panda or if she was new.
She looked at the food as the businessman in front of her absently ordered food while simultaneously setting something up with a contractor on his cell phone. She stepped in front of him in the line to see what kind of entrees they had and he walked around her, chatting loudly on his phone and pointing at food to the server. She hadn't bothered him at all.
Another server came up to help the woman, asking her if she knew what she'd like.
"I've never done this before." I noticed that the woman's head and neck rhythmically shook. "I want two entrees like that man just ordered, but I am not sure how it works." Even through her bold, clear voice I couldn't help but feel her vulnerability. I sensed that in the past she was a woman who got things done and that she wasn't going to let this new experience intimidate her.
"Okay," said the kind-faced, Hispanic-American woman, "You can just order a side first, and then you can choose two entrees."
"I am not sure which things I am choosing from." She showed a bit more of her weakness, but she asked without asking. Her dignity was still intact.
"You can choose from fried rice, Chow Mein, or steamed vegetables", the 20ish year-old server said with sweetness and patience without a hint of a patronizing tone.
"Hmmm," she gazed carefully at the choices, "I think I will have Chow Mein." Some spittle flew onto the glass as she spoke, "And now for my entrees!" She pronounced it like it was spelled (like "entry" with an s at the end).
She pointed to one of the entrees and said that she wanted that one, then she asked for Kung Pao Chicken.
"Oh, that one is pretty spicy, would you still like it?"
The woman pulled a face, "Oh, no! Certainly not!" Her eyes darted around to see what else she might like, but not recognizing any of them, she paused.
The server quickly offered another choice, "The mushroom chicken is not spicy, would you like that one?"
"Yes, I think I would," grateful for the help of the nice server.
One minute later I saw her hurrying out the door with her plastic bag, toward her car, ready to take on the rest of her day.
Something struck me in that moment and made me stop and thank Jesus that I got to witness it. I am not sure what it was but it brought a tear to my eye. I am pretty sappy, but I felt something deeper in that moment. Maybe it was one of those teaching moments where my heavenly Father points out something as we walk together.
I think it had something to do with the idea that to have and maintain dignity as an older person, there must be a societal framework in place that honors us as we age. The fact is that most of the time, I don't see dignity afforded to the weak and elderly by the young. Mostly, I see people treating them like the bother that they can be, and not like the image of God that he created us all to be.
I am sure, I have given this conversation fifty times the attention that these two women did, and that makes it all the more beautiful. I was afforded the privilege to witness evidence of what Ravi Zacharius calls the heaven-born "Ought" as it is expressed towards human frailty. Where does kindness towards the weaker among us have it's place in the Darwinian mindset of secular American Culture? There is no logical reason, other than the in-born thumbprint of the Almighty, that there should be any such thing as everyday, mundane kindnesses towards those among us who no longer work a job or can help us to evolve to the next phase of humanity.
But, we ought to...and we know it. There is no escaping it, and that "Ought" will have its day in court. The "Ought" is where heaven first touches the soul of man. It's where the heavenly Marine Corps first hits land and starts it's base of operations. If you don't shy away from it, but listen to it and walk in that wisdom, you are embarking on a wonderful journey to meet the one who made you, face to face.
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