A strange blanket of Peace.
I was humbled as I was taking coffee and pie-orders from the group that had finished their free Christmas dinner. It was an ecclectic group of individuals. Some were old, and still proud, people whom I'm guessing had worked hard all thier lives and fallen on tough times later in life for any number of reasons one could imagine.
Others of varying ages seemed to be devastated and ashamed of their current situation of need. Some feeling compelled to take one of their servers aside and explain: "I used to be married and normal you know, then.... everything fell apart", or another was overheard saying "and then after the 3rd surgery.....". Another diner sat alone and stared off into the distance until the coffee pot came near, and then a glazed toothless smile emerged and he said in halting tones "yeps pleass" as he held his cup out to me. What was his story? He seemed happy, but why was he alone? Was he developmentally delayed?, drug-affected?, did he have family? Never-the-less, I was glad to be the one filling up his cup, it felt like an honour.
Everyone was gentle and kind toward one another, no one demanding anything of me or the other servers, or each other. Even when I screwed up the pie orders: the man and woman who had been patiently waiting for their banana pie just waited longer, and when I finally showed up with said pie, they smiled and said "thanks" - no impatience in their eyes or in their tone. It was strange too that I did not get frustrated with my own forgetfullness or disorganization, I just rolled with it with the calm knowledge that I was doing my best (this is strange for me, as I tend to be tense and self-blaming).
I have no illusions about the homeless or the needy, I know that they can behave like asses just like any one of us, but not there, not on that day. It was as if there was a strange blanket of peace over the whole thing. It seemed that we had all been given a sample of God's Grace for Christmas, servers and diners alike.
Everyone seemed to work within a flow of acceptance, there didn't appear to be any frustration or tension. The servers were a mish-mash of people, some who had never met each other or the main group before, and some who never served or cleaned-up before in a restaurant setting. We took our cues from the servers who looked like they were more familiar with the environment: but there was no instruction manual, no training seminar. We just trusted and went ahead. At one point, a young woman who was serving there for the first time too, looked at me, smiled and said quietly "this is awesome". She felt it too.
When it was over, I didn't want it to be over, I wanted to do more. But the diners filtered out of the building and headed back to their lives. As Mr.Yeps-Pleass was walking out the front door, he turned, smiled again and said "see ya next year!" Yes, he will.
The blanket kept me warm all day.