Stooped over countless shopping bags in pouring rain, folk darting past unaware or uncaring of her plight. I asked if she needed help, she nodded on the verge of tears. We divided her bags between us and began walking. She spoke no English except ‘Ukraine’ and ‘bus’. Torn ligaments hurt like hell but mine nothing more than pesky pain when compared with the woes of that dear lady. My heart went out to her and at the same time I was just so grateful to God for the privilege of being allowed shoulder part of her burden for a moment in time.
Helping dear lady carry her load did far more good for my aching ankle than all the massage therapy in the world could ever achieve - this I know.😀
Quite a few displaced people all the way from Ukraine stood in somber silence at bus stop. Expressionless, they were returning to little fishing village few miles away where they reside for now, having shopped for basic necessities in our town. God only knows how they must be feeling, it really does not bear thinking about.
Walking together in silence, lady and me, I knew in my deepest spirit I was walking with Jesus. Meanwhile, Father God, Author of Life, sobbed for His beloved children as torrential rain covered everything and everyone in a mantle of grey.
Saint Mother Teresa would say as she counted on five fingers: ‘You did it to Me’.
‘Great occasions for serving God come seldom, but little ones surround us daily’. (Frances De Sales)
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