BUS DELIVERY OF A NEW FRIEND

When you frequent a place, don’t you find that you gravitate to the same area sometimes, perhaps even the same row of seats?  And perish the thought if someone else should occupy “your seat” before your arrival. 

This was a delightful, but cool, Sunday morning in October.   One of my favorite joys was about to commence….greeting people at the church we attended.   I preferred waiting with my body perched between the door and the outside air.   My reasoning for this stance was due to the briskness in the air, and I felt reluctant to bring my body temperature down so early in the morning.   

Yes, you can stand inside and wait until people enter the building; but I feel it’s important that people see that you are welcoming in your approach to others and that you enjoy greeting them. 

This new opportunity to welcome came only a month after attending, and I was trying to learn names and recognize faces each week.   But I found that even if I couldn’t remember a name, I was becoming familiar with the face.   In this big world, remembering “faces” can make others feel important and welcome.

The parking lot was buzzing with people arriving for the morning service.   Hugs and conversations were in full swing, but out of the corner of my eye I saw a small yellow and white bus pull up to the curb.   There was a pause when the driver parked the bus and came around to the exit door.   I was a fare distance away, but I could determine that there was a woman moving slowly toward the steps to exit the bus.  

There she appeared!  A small statured lady with lovely white hair, dressed so neatly appeared at the top of the stairs waiting for her verbal instruction and a caring hand to help her down the four steps.   I heard the faint verbal count of each step as the driver was audibly accompanying her down the steps to the waiting pavement below. 

This lovely woman was escorted, arm-in-arm, by the young bus driver toward the door of our church.   I’m reminded often that the Lord directs our steps, and the steps of others that come across our path.

There was no hesitation for me to approach them and ask if I could be of some help.  Somewhere in the brief conversation, I was informed that she was partially blind and needed help to be guided and seated in the sanctuary.   This was such a pleasant lady and I was only too happy to escort her to the nearest entry door.

As we approached the auditorium, we exchanged pleasantries and I found her simply delightful.  We proceeded to an appropriate aisle toward the back where she could be seated, and an usher noticed our entry.  I asked him to watch carefully when the service was over, and to be sure and help this fine lady to the exit door to wait for the bus to pick her up and take her back to her home.  He was most agreeable.  After introducing them, I assured her that he would take care of escorting her out of the seat and back to the entrance to the church.

Sometime after the service as I was leaving, I noticed her again by the exit door.  She was sitting on a ledge by the window peering out the window and watching for that nice yellow and white bus.

It was a pleasure to see her again: and oddly enough I felt strangely drawn to her.  Many people were passing by her as they were leaving, but she seemed all alone.

Just before leaving the building I asked how she was as I wanted to make sure that she was being picked up soon.  With a warm smile, she assured me the bus driver would be there soon and take her back to her place of residence.   

I introduced myself as the woman she met when she first arrived.  “What is your name?” I asked.  I could tell that she was happy to have been asked.  Her name is Caroline and this was her first Sunday visiting our church.  

It was my pleasure to assure her that I would be looking for her next week and I would be delighted to see to it that I would help her find a seat and have her cared for each Sunday.   She seemed very happy about that.

Now think about this for a moment.  “If you were partially blind and you visited a church and no one greeted you or cared for your seating needs, would you return?”   How would you and I feel in a foreign setting with hundreds of others passing by without a word being said to you?   How would you find your way out?  How awkward and frightening that would be.    I sometimes get nervous visiting places I’ve never been, and I can see why.   But what if I were blind?   Frightened wouldn’t come close to describe my inner fears. 

I find it incredible how God places people and situations right in front of us, trusting us, if I can use that word, to care for and look after them.   This first encounter was meant to be.

The following Sunday, about twenty minutes before the service, the yellow and white bus pulled up to the curb, and the driver circled around to help this sweet lady off the bus.   This Sunday was different however.   My feet couldn’t mobilize fast enough to arrive at the bus steps.   I called out her name to welcome her back to church. 

My plans were to walk arm-in-arm with her right to the area where she sat “last week.”  God had “other plans.”   Amazing how we can have set ideas of how events are going to go and then, the Sovereign God interrupts those plans.   

Arm-in-arm we began our approach to where she was sitting last week; yet something within me would not allow that to happen.   I asked if she would like to sit with my husband and me in another location, and she seemed only too pleased and somewhat relieved with that offer.

So we walked a little further than the previous week to the area where my husband and I normally sat.   The rest is history!   Every Sunday morning it is as if she prances off that bus like a queen.   She’s now bringing her walker, which increases her speed limit and freedom. At 93 years of age she’s so good at maneuvering her walker, I wonder if she was into race-car driving in her earlier years. 

I parked her walker at the back of the sanctuary wall, and we then proceed, our arms clutched together down a few aisles to where we sit….together. At the end of the service, I move her walker close by and we leave just a moment or two before all the other 300 people exit. 

We’ve added a “refreshing delight” after exiting the auditorium doors.    Caroline and her mobile-wheeled helper move with me in the direction of the donuts and coffee urns.   I make the indulgent plunge for the cups and get pouring as Caroline, with glee munches on a donut. 

Our next stop is to return to the entry door waiting for the little yellow and white bus to take her home.   Her walker has a fold out seat and provides her a comfortable way to sit and enjoy her liquid refreshment before boarding the bus.    

People have begun noticing her arrival and departures each Sunday; but it isn’t her walker and fragile frame they’re drawn to.   It’s her smile and laughter and singing all the way to the front door.   Whatever the last hymn or praise chorus we’ve sung that morning, that’s our theme to coffee and out the front door.

I love it when others stop and introduce themselves to her.  Slowly she’s getting acquainted with others and beginning to feel at home.

KINDNESS IS A LANGUAGE THAT THE DEAF CAN HEAR AND THE BLIND CAN SEE.

Caroline