With temperatures having dipped into the deadly teens one night, hundreds of displaced folk were making the absolute best use of our city’s houses of worship, gathering in their sanctuaries, classrooms, and fellowship halls for warmth, a couple of meals, and some friendship.
My memories of that evening are quite vivid — it was a lovely mix of a nice dinner, twenty or so strangers swapping stories as though they were longtime friends, a movie or two playing in the background, and some raucously fun card games. We were having so much fun, in fact, one of the regulars had to catch himself and remind all of us of how early breakfast came in the program’s protocol. Begrudgingly and with full hearts and bellies, we all acquiesced and turned in.
The next morning, after waking earlier than the others that we might prep the morning meal, a couple of us found one of the men unresponsive in his cot. Within minutes, first responders arrived and began working valiantly on the fellow. As they worked, the twenty of us held vigil, hoping against hope for a miracle that ultimately did not come. As we stood there in the shadows of the sanctuary, I specifically took notice of one of the guys, a young fellow who looked to be in his early twenties. He was standing closest to the deceased man…eyes mostly closed, head bowed, quietly dabbing away tears. This he did for at least fifteen minutes, maybe longer.
Knowing he was hurting terribly, I went and stood beside him. After a bit, I took his hand and we prayed. As the medical team finally came to the end of their compassionately stubborn efforts and began to remove the man from the space, I asked the young fellow how long he and the man had been friends. His face still wet with tears, without looking at me, he quietly said he had never met him. Sensing my surprise and recognizing the obvious question in my mind, he relieved me of the need to ask it and answered…“I just thought since his family isn’t here and they don’t know what’s happened. And maybe they wouldn’t care even if they did know. I just thought somebody ought to cry for him.”
It’s been several years now…and that moment is never far from my mind. Several years and I still have nothing to add to my young friend’s wisdom. Nothing is needed. What he said was, and is, perfect. Oh, that our world might grow into his words.
