“Come thou fount of every blessing, tune my heart to sing they grace; streams of mercy, never ceasing, call for songs of loudest praise” – 18th Century Christian hymn
The strains of that simple, haunting hymn always bring tears to my eyes - no matter the context, no matter the version. There’s just something about those gentle chords and humble lyrics that open a fount of thankfulness in my heart – every time I hear the song.
November is the month of thankfulness and the holidays a time of generosity. But, as easy as they both should be, the business of being thankful and generous can be tricky at times. It’s nice when it’s clear that the cause is just and giving is in order; but when things are not so obvious, the suspicious gates of my heart slam shut, making it easy to look the other way. The other day I had an instance of both happening, almost simultaneously, when I encountered a man who was having a bad day.
I was at the hardware store buying birdseed and as I wrestled the big bag into my car, the fellow approached me. He was an older man, with a head of white hair, wearing clean, if well worn,work clothes. He asked if he could help me with the birdseed, then asked if I could spare any amount of money at all.
“I spent the last money I had on gas to get here from Athens for a day of work, then the guy I was ‘sposed to work with didn’t show up. So here I am, no work, no money and not enough gas to get back home to Athens,” he said, an obvious edge of desperation in his voice.
I could tell he didn’t like asking for money, that it embarrassed him and hurt his pride. I’ve not had to bury my pride and ask for help many times, but when I did, it embarrassed and hurt me, too.
Initially, the suspicious gates of my heart slammed shut and I told him, no, I didn’t have any cash on me. In actuality, I had two crisp $20 bills in my wallet and while it would’ve been a no brainer to give the man $5, I didn’t want to part with a $20. He said, “Thank you anyway, ma’am,” then went back to his vehicle, which I now saw was parked next to mine.
It was an old Jeep, painted flat black, with some years and wear on it. There were tools in the back, arranged in an orderly fashion, and some PVC pipe mounted along the windows, like the man stored something of use in his work there. He stood behind his vehicle looking worried and tired. He kept flipping open an old flip phone and looking at it like he was about to make a call, but he never dialed. His shoulders were stooped as if a heavy weight lay on them.
Damn! I thought. Who am I to judge him? Here I was, well dressed and well fed, on my way to yoga class, with $40 in my wallet and a big bag of expensive bird seed in my car…Good Lord! How suspicious and self-absorbed do I need to be?
I motioned to the man to come over, then rolled down my window and handed him one of those crisp $20 bills. He took it quickly, staring at it in disbelief, then stuck his head through the car window and gave me a big awkward hug.
“Thank you, ma’am! God Bless you, ma’am! You don’t have any idea how much this means to me, ma’am!” he cried, tears visible in his eyes, still shaking my hand through the car window.
At that point, the suspicious curmudgeon in me returned or maybe I was just embarrassed by his enthusiasm – it clearly communicated a need that was real. Either way, I withdrew my hand and said sternly, “Now use that money for gas and maybe a snack - not for anything else.”
“I will, ma’am,” he cried. “There’s a station right over there and I’m headed to it right now.”
As I pulled away, I saw him open his worn leather wallet and place that $20 bill gently in it, as if it was indeed, a precious thing. Then he headed towards his Jeep with a bit of bounce in his step, his shoulders no longer stooped. There was a lightness to him that made him almost glow…Hmmm! I thought. Had I just had an encounter with an “angel unaware” as I call them, referring to one of my favorite Bible verses, Hebrews 13:2: “Be not forgetful to entertain strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.”
There have been times when $20 meant an awful lot to me. During those times, someone - a friend, a family member or a stranger – always came along to help me. In those cases, they were the angel helping a person in need. In this case, the person who needed help was the angel - not me.
It’s good to be reminded of how blessed I am and to be made aware of how quickly those doors of judgment and suspicion can shut down my heart…“There but by the grace of God, go I,” may be a cliché, but it’s also true. And, I’m thankful to that fellow for reminding me of that, whether he was an angel or a man.
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