When we went to First Lutheran to serve dinner to the homeless last month, a man asked me if I had a cross on a necklace that he could have. I didn't, and neither did anyone else.
At my creativity retreat, somebody had brought some cross pendants that seemed to be made out of ceramic, and so I asked if I could take a few with me. The woman said yes.
Last night, we took dinner to First Lutheran, and I scanned the crowd, looking for that man. I wasn't sure I had the right guy, so I said, "Last month, someone asked me if I had an extra cross necklace. Was that you?"
The man nodded. He said, "I got one, but I gave it to another lady who needed it worse than I did."
I reached into my pocket and held out my bundle of pendants along with the cords to hang them around one's neck. I explained where I got them. The man looked at me as if I was handing him a big wad of cash.
On the way home, my spouse and I debated the durability of the pendants. I agree that it would be better if I had made them out of carved wood, but I didn't have that kind of time. Perhaps I should have brought a case of metal pendants.
The ones I had are made of cornstarch and baking soda (I would post the recipe, but the PDF file is not cooperating). Perhaps they'll melt in the first rain. Maybe they'll break.
But I'm not going to worry about that now. I'm going to take with me through my busy day today the memory of that man's face gleaming at me as if he'd won the lottery.
feeling the feelings…
3 months ago