Soul Magic
TESTED
by David McLaughlan of
On the train heading for
Well, we tossed the idea about for a few minutes then the
train reached the terminus. Once in Central Station we made our way through the
masses of travelers towards the exit. Because she’s a regular church-goer and I’m not, I admit I was teasing my sweetheart just
a little. The last thing I expected was to have my question, and my faith, put
to the test almost immediately.
My wife tugged at my sleeve.
"Look." She pointed to a bank of pay phones
against the far wall where a hunched, elderly lady was checking every change
return slot. Looking at her many layers of ragged clothing and shoes held
together with tape my wife commented, "She’s probably wearing everything
she owns. And what she isn’t wearing is probably in the plastic bag she’s
carrying."
I turned against the tide of people and stood for a moment,
watching her. Having found no forgotten change this woman, who had to be in her
seventies, headed for the newsagent’s shop.
She was so small I doubt the sales assistant ever saw her
amongst the genuine customers. She picked up a magazine or two and
"accidentally" shook out the advertising leaflets and free TV guides.
She picked these up off the floor and tucked them into one of her many
cardigans. I could only guess they might be insulation to help her through a
cold night on the street.
By now I was feeling guilty, like something of a voyeur. It
was time to move on. I had seen poor people before. On the streets of
Once again the woman made her way, all but unnoticed,
through the crowd. Her next stop was the photo booth, where she pressed the
coin return button a few times.
When she came out I was standing in front of her. Now, I’m a fairly big man so I don’t blame her for being startled when I said, "Find anything?"
But there was something more in her expression. She just
couldn’t seem to comprehend the fact that I was speaking to her. What must it
be like, I wondered, to have been so "invisible" for so long that
having someone address you face to face could be such a shock?
"Here." I held out some money.
She smiled, tried for a few seconds to speak but she seemed
to have forgotten how. Then, silently, her mouth formed the words, "Thank
you."
Suddenly stunned and scared I pressed the money into her
hand and stepped back into the crowd. By the time I reached my wife again my
tears were flowing freely.
Minutes before I had been questioning other folk’s
Christianity. Now I had been tested. If Jesus had been present in that old lady
I probably wouldn’t have recognized him. So, instead, I believe He sent a
messenger, someone I certainly would recognize. . .
In that deeply lined face and those watery blue eyes I had
seen my own dearly loved, long departed grandmother.
In another life when I still had a child’s innocence I had
fixed her fence, brought coal for her fire, sat by her feet. Granny’s smile was
the best reward a "good boy" could hope for. And in that face, in
that smile, I had seen proof that decades after her death by caring for someone
else I had made her, and possibly some higher power, happy again.
We were on our way to the theatre, to see Jesus Christ
Superstar, but I confess I only saw about half of it; the rest was blurred by
tears of happiness.
—
© by David McLaughlan of
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