ARAPPING NOISE ON my bedroom door jerked me awake at eight thirty.
There should be a rule against waking anybody before nine on a Saturday morning!
The door knob clicked as it opened, and Christina’s face peered at me.
“Hey, Christina,” I said in a drowsy voice, hoping to make her feel guilty for waking me up. She knew I hated getting awakened early on Saturday mornings.
“Eden just called. She told me her dad is trying to get some teens to come help at the homeless shelter today.”
Not today. Not after last night and that whole ninja angels scene.
I squinted at Christina, then flopped my head back onto my pillow.
“You’re kidding me, right?”
I vaguely remembered Pastor mentioning that last Sunday. No way was I going to a place like that. And I surely never thought Christina to be the type that would light up at that idea. Then again, she was the risk-taker. And she had all that “new Christian” energy and drive.
“I want to go. Will you go with me?”
I was glad to hear Christina’s excitement about serving the Lord, and I didn’t want to diminish it. “I’ll think about it.”
“Great! I’ll start finding some clothes for you!”
“Wait!” I groaned as she began rummaging through my drawers, looking for something for me to wear.
I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at my feet dangling near the floor. The idea of getting close to dirty, smelly homeless people made me shudder. Yeah, I’d just watched four angels beat up a demon in a storage closet and watched it ooze weird-colored blood the night before. But homeless people? They scared me more. I didn’t know if they were good or evil. At least with demons and angels it was pretty obvious. Were they homeless because they were drug dealers, drunks, or deadbeats?
That’s pretty harsh. How judgmental!
I didn’t want to think about it. So I decided to get up. I pulled on sweat pants, a hoodie, and sneakers I’d left on the bathroom floor the night before, totally ignoring Christina’s creation of a wardrobe. When I came out of the bathroom I saw Mike sitting on the edge of my bed.
“You should go to the shelter with Christina. And no, Christina can’t see or hear me.”
Of course he knew what I was thinking.
I’m really not into this. I ran a brush through my hair.
Guardian angels could be a bother sometimes. “It will help Christina grow in her faith,” Mike chirped with an opened-mouthed grin. He put his hands over his head, with his thumbs and middle fingers touching to make the shape of a halo. “And it will help you get over your fear of homeless people.”
I’m not afraid. Just not interested.
Christina turned around and looked me up and down, then tossed the clothing in her hands on my bed. “I’m going to go downstairs and make some toast. Do you mind?”
“S-sure.” I waved her out the door.
After I heard Christina’s feet land at the foot of the stairs, Mike continued. “Why aren’t you interested in helping homeless people?”
I wasn’t ready for a lecture this early.
I leaned against my dresser and crossed my arms. “If you’ve been with me my whole life, you should know.”
He rested his arms on his knees. “Are you talking about that trip to Philly when you were nine?”
I walked into the bathroom and brushed my teeth and applied some light makeup so I’d look more awake than I felt.
Every time I saw a homeless person, I thought about the day my mom took me to Philadelphia. Even now, the scene was as vivid in my mind as when it happened.
We went to an art museum, the Liberty Bell, and Independence Hall. At the end of the day we ordered Philly cheesesteak sandwiches in the train station. After eating half of mine I put the rest in the wrapper and walked with Mom toward our departure area.
When we reached the platform I saw a wrinkly man crouched in a corner, wearing a torn, stained jacket and scuffed, holey shoes. His white beard was stained with brownish-yellow streaks. When we got close he grabbed my arm.
I screamed.
Mom pulled me away. “How dare you touch my daughter!” I’d never heard my mother talk like that to anyone. It scared me.
“I’m sorry,” he said in a scratchy voice. “I didn’t mean to frighten the girl.”
“Then why did you grab her?” She stared at the man like he was a rattlesnake about to strike.
“It’s just that . . . I’m so hungry. I haven’t eaten in three days.”
I wanted to give him the rest of my sandwich, but I was too terrified to move.
“Come on, Olivia. Let’s get away from his stench.” Mom jerked my arm so hard I dropped the sandwich. “Get a job,” she screamed over her shoulder.
While she dragged me away from the man, I turned and saw him struggle to his feet and pick up the sandwich I left behind. He was missing a leg.
I turned to watch the train, but I couldn’t block the image of that man from my mind. He was alone, with no one to help him. What if my daddy lost his job? And his leg? Would he have to sit in a cold train station, begging little girls for half a sandwich?
As the noisy train came to a halt I reached into my coat pocket and grabbed the change Mom had given me for spending money that day. I dribbled it onto the sidewalk behind me, hoping the homeless man would find it, knowing Mom wouldn’t hear it over the noise of the screaming brakes that filled the subway station.
“I’d think that experience would make you want to help people in need,” Mike said, interrupting my memory.
I placed my toothbrush back in its holder on my sink and spit. I wiped my mouth on the towel hanging by the sink and said, “It did, at first. But on the train ride back Mom kept talking about people who didn’t want to help themselves. She went on and on about how hard my dad worked and how he’d never ask for a handout. She told me not to give any money to homeless people because they’d just spend it on drugs and beer.”
“Not everyone who’s homeless is lazy. Most want to work and would if they could find jobs. In most cases, life circumstances or the actions of others have brought them to this point.”
I couldn’t argue with him. But I was still scared to go to the mission.
“Look, plenty of other people help at the mission. Why do I need to?”
“There are far more homeless people at shelters than those volunteering to help.” He tilted his head. “Probably because so many have the same misconceptions and fears you do.”
A wave of guilt ran over me. I had a roof over my head and a warm bed, and my belly was pretty much always full.
A Bible verse came to my mind. Jesus said, “Whenever you did to one of these things, to someone overlooked or ignored, that was me—you did it to me.” I grinned at Mike. “You put that Scripture in my head, didn’t you?”
“Uh, no, that would be the Holy Spirit. It’s Matthew 25:40. You memorized it at camp two summers ago out of The Message. That new, modern version of the Bible they had there. Everything you put in your mind can be pulled out when you need it.”
I thought about the verse. Basically Jesus was telling His disciples that whenever they helped people in need they were helping Him. I closed my eyes and asked God to forgive my selfishness. When I opened them, there stood the old man from the train, his piercing blue eyes staring at me. I gasped and stepped back.
After a flash of light he stood on two legs instead of one this time. His tattered green clothes turned into a three-piece white suit, and his hair became a long, blond mane. White wings spread out from behind him. His wrinkles faded. The only thing unchanged was his beautiful, ice-blue eyes.
“Mike?” I knew it was him. He had used a powerful, creative way to demonstrate how the man could have been an angel in disguise.
“Remember Hebrews 13:2. You learned it at camp that same week. ‘Be ready with a meal or a bed when it’s needed. Why, some have extended hospitality to angels without ever knowing it!’”
“That was you at the train station?”
“I gave your cheesesteak and coins to a real homeless man that day.”
I felt like someone had just leaned a warm pillow against my heart.
My sweet, generous angel.
God, You created a wonderful being. Thank You for sending him to help a homeless person that day so long ago. I want to do that too.
“I’m glad I dropped that sandwich—and the coins.” Apparently I’d had a faith test in my childhood—and passed.
“I still have a few of the coins as a memento.” He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out three quarters. “That was a precious moment. Your heart was soft even back then.”
I stared at the coins in his palm. I couldn’t believe he’d kept them all these years. “I’m still scared to go to the mission.”
“That’s OK. It’s in terrifying moments that you see Jesus the clearest.”
I knew he was right. I’d go, knowing God would make me strong. And Christ would work through me.
“Hey, where’s that leather pouch you had on you that night at the dance club?” I asked.
Mike’s expression went sullen. He rubbed his chin. “Umm—it’s a secret weapon.” He avoided my gaze.
“For what?”
Mike disappeared. Instead of being annoyed at his sudden exit, yet again, I clamored to the bedroom door and yelled down the stairway so Christina could hear me in the kitchen. “I’m coming down in a second.”
Shoot! I hope I didn’t wake Mom and Dad up.
I shut off my bathroom light and quickly made my bed, then shut my bedroom door behind me and walked down the hallway, treading lightly so it didn’t creak loudly just in case Mom and Dad were still asleep—doubtful. I tiptoed down the stairs and entered the kitchen. Christina was spreading peanut butter on her toast.
“I can’t wait. This is going to be so much fun.” She licked the peanut butter off the knife and set it on the plate with a clink.
“Yeah. Fun.” I grabbed my purse off the hook near the back door in the kitchen.
Christina handed me two pieces of toast with peanut butter and jelly between them. She’d wrapped the sandwich in a napkin for me. I’d eat it on the way.
“Let’s go!” Christina grabbed her purse and keys off the kitchen table, and we went out the front door and got into her car, which was parked at the curb in front of my house. We both slipped in and shut the doors. Christina held her peanut butter toast in her mouth while she put her purse in the seat behind us and turned the ignition.
There was no turning back now.
Christina pulled her car into the church parking lot at ten. My stomach did a flip-flop. I was really going to have to be around homeless people.
You can do this. I tried to believe my own pep talk as we got out of Christina’s Camry.
Five men gathered around a table in the lot filled with coffee pots. They were drinking from foam cups just outside the entrance to the church.
Seven middle-aged ladies stood in a circle by the front of the bus, wearing pleated pants and floral button-up shirts. I felt out of place in my black T-shirt, distressed jeans, and scuffed-up sneakers.
Christina and I were the only teens I saw. Everyone else looked to be at least thirty. I guessed most teens had other things they’d prefer to do on Saturdays. I’d been guilty of the same thing. But I suddenly felt as if God were smiling at me and Christina like a proud Father.
Eden’s dad waved to me from the church steps. I waved back. Gee, I’d never seen him in jeans, a sweatshirt, and sneakers before. He looked—normal. I guessed I figured pastors wore suits every day of the week. It would look really tacky going into a shelter dressed like that anyway. I was no longer ashamed at how I was dressed. Who knows—maybe I’d blend in better having not tried too hard to look anything but comfortable.
Eden came out of the front door of the church and hurried over to us from across the parking lot. “I was worried you weren’t coming. It’s almost time to get on board.”
As we approached the bus the ladies greeted us with wide smiles.
An older man wearing a red baseball cap, who looked to be in his sixties, opened the bus door from the outside, then boarded the bus and sat in the driver’s seat. He waved us in.
“All aboard,” Pastor shouted. He stood at the bus door as we all got on.
As Christina and I passed him, he said, “Thank you both for coming.”
“I’m scared but excited,” I replied.
He laid his hand on the center of my back and gave me a reassuring rub. “You’ll do great!”
Somehow I believed him.
Christina shook his hand and followed me up the stairs into the bus.
I walked to the back and took a seat. Christina and Eden sat in the seats in front of me.
As we rode to the shelter, people’s conversations were garbled by the roar of the engine. As I did most mornings when riding the school bus, I stared out the window and watched the cars go by.
I wondered how many homeless people would be there. Would they smell? Would I be able to keep from wrinkling my nose at the stench?
What would I say to them?
God, help me do a good job today. Help me encourage at least one person.
Our ride progressed from the country setting where our church was to a four-lane highway, then through congested areas cluttered with row houses and industrial buildings. We came to a stop in front of a red brick building with graffiti on the front and a yellow awning over the front door with words printed in black: Water Street Mission. A chalkboard on a pedestal at the curb read “Soup kitchen today at noon.”
I started to twirl my hair and nibble on a nail as I spotted several people in tattered clothing and dirty faces leaning against the outside of the building.
Would they be nice?
Just smile at every single one that catches your eye.
Pastor led us to the front door, where he greeted a man in a green wool sweater with shoulder-length, unkempt, gray-and-brown hair. He gave us one of the warmest smiles I’d ever seen. His blue eyes sparkled almost like Mike’s. “I’m Mac. I’m so pleased you all have come to serve lunch today.”
He shook everyone’s hand. When he shook mine his calluses rubbed against my soft skin. This guy must be a hard worker.
Mac led us to a large, cheery kitchen that smelled of freshly made bread and chicken noodle soup. So far nothing seemed scary.
Mac gestured toward two round ladies in bright floral aprons and hairnets, one bent over a large sink, the other slicing a loaf of bread. “This is Millie and Barb.”
They greeted us with rosy-cheeked smiles bearing deep laugh lines.
“I’m Millie,” the taller one said as she wiped her hands on her apron and smoothed gray hairs from her forehead. “We’re honored to have you with us today.” She folded her hands across her full belly. “You’ll be meeting a variety of folks today. Don’t let them frighten you. Just remember they are hurting people, and you’re soothing some of their pain by filling their stomachs. Offer a smile. That’s more love than most of them get in a week.”
I could smile. That wouldn’t be hard. But what if one of them spoke to me? What would I say?
Millie walked us to a long counter with stacks of trays, Styrofoam bowls, plastic silverware, loaves of white bread, and a vat of steaming soup. “I know some of you have done this before, but any who are new—one of you can hand out the trays; two can give out the bowls, napkins, and silverware; and two can hand out the bread and spoon soup into bowls. The rest of you can help with clean-up by clearing tables and throwing out trash, then wiping them clean for the next folks. If you need anything, come find me here in the kitchen area.”
Eden’s dad gave each of us a task based on the arrangement Millie had given. Since we were new, Christina and I were assigned to clean up the dining area. Eden got to spoon out the soup with her dad. I would’ve preferred handing out bowls or bread so I could hide behind the counter. I had no desire to be out there mingling with the homeless people. But I knew God had me in this position for a reason. Maybe He’d send a special person for me to encourage. So I stood by one of the folding tables set up in three rows across the dining area with folding chairs surrounding them.
Christina stood beside me with a bucket and two washcloths in her hands. She set it on the floor by the wall so no one would trip over it.
We exchanged glances as we waited for Mac to open the door for the people to enter. Christina elbowed me in the side. “Here we go. We’ll stick together.” Maybe she could sense my fear.
When Mac unlocked the door the first person who entered had a dirty white beard, wore dark green clothing, and used crutches because he only had one leg. I winced inside. It was like I was standing in that train station again with my mother. Then I remembered Mike’s disguise, and the memory fled. It could be an angel. Or just a nice old man. Or Mike!
It’s him.
I heard Jesus’ words reverberate in my spirit. It was no mistake that God sent this person through the door first, knowing I would need the right perspective from the get-go.
He hobbled over to where I stood by one of the tables.
I grinned. “Hi, Mi-—I mean, sir.” I caught myself, still caught up in the mental vision of Mike turning into a homeless person. Maybe it was him.
“Hello, miss.” He winked. I guessed he didn’t want me to use his name when other people were close enough to listen.
I led him to a table and helped him sit down, holding his plate and cup for him as he got comfortable. “Thanks for being here,” I whispered.
I waited to see if the old man would look at me like I was loopy.
“I thought you could use a cheerleader today.” It was Mike!
Christina approached. “Can I bring you some soup and bread, sir?”
I straightened. “Actually, this is . . . ” I looked to Mike, wondering what to say. “ . . . a friend of mine.”
Mike stuck out his hand. “Captain Michael, at your service.”
She shook it and shot me a questioning look. Either she wondered if this was my angel, Mike, or she was surprised I’d jumped in so quickly to introduce this man to her so enthusiastically.
“Um . . . he’s a war hero,” I said. Well, he is.
I shot an exaggerated wink at Christina, and she gave me an “I gotcha” look.
“Pleased to meet you,” Christina said. She shot me another look as she walked away.
Mike smirked. “Fancy wording there, Liv.”
“Well, you are a war hero. You saved my dad in the spiritual war. And me—several times.”
“Quite true.”
I returned to the soup line to help a lady with a walker who was having a hard time holding her tray. “I’ll help you with that.”
She looked out from behind cloudy eyes surrounded by sagging eyelids. “Thank you, dear.”
Eden handed me two cookies wrapped in cellophane. “That gentleman forgot his cookies.” She pointed in the direction of Mike.
“I can take that to him.” I shoved them in my hoodie pocket and led the lady to a table nearest to the food so she would not have to walk far. I put the tray down, then folded up her walker for her as she balanced herself on the folding chair. I placed it against the wall by the table, then put my arm around her to help her get seated. A pungent smell hit my nostrils.
Ignore it, Liv!
Once she was settled I helped place her napkin on her lap. She looked up at me, and there were pools of tears on her lower eyelids. I gulped.
Why was she crying? All I did was help her carry her food and seat her.
Maybe you’re the first person to ever lift a finger for her. Have you thought of that?
In a shaky voice she said, “Thank you for your kindness.”
Feeling my own eyes mist over, I swallowed and replied, “You’re very welcome. Enjoy your meal. I’ll be here if you need anything.” I patted her shoulder softly as she turned to plunge her spoon into her soup.
How could something I dreaded so much touch me so deeply and cause me happiness I’d never felt before? I felt euphoric.
That’s what it feels like when you are serving another, selflessly, in My name.
I turned around to check on Mike, but as I did I noticed people pouring through the door and taking seats faster than they had since we started. I had no time to chat with Mike. There were so many others. They were of all colors and personalities. Some young, some old. A couple of them talked to each other, but most stood staring straight ahead, waiting their turn in line.
See them as I see them. Don’t see the clothing, or the faces. See the hearts. Each is a special individual created by Me. I love each one as deeply as I love you.
Some left, and as they did I gathered trash and wiped down the tables where they had been. They began to fill the tables quickly, so Christina and I sped up our pace to keep up.
I passed Mike at one point, wondering if he had eaten anything. I’d never seen him eat anything before, not even when he helped me make those yummy goodies for Eden’s date with Ty. He’d only tasted my sauce.
“I’m getting such a kick out of watching you and Christina doing such a great job.” He stood up and pushed in his chair as if to show me he was leaving. He stopped, looked behind him, then turned back to me. “Hey, look at that girl over there.”
I glanced in the direction he’d just scanned and saw a teenage girl approaching the table where Mike had been. When I turned back around I didn’t see my guardian angel anywhere. His table and food were left untouched.
It had been so comforting knowing Mike was there. Would I be OK without him around?
With Me, nothing is impossible.
I trust You, God. I meant it.
The girl wore torn jeans, but I doubted hers were distressed to be fashionable. Her short black hair had a white streak alongside long bangs.
She slurped soup with her head low, letting her hair fall over her face.
She sat alone, away from the others.
I grabbed Mike’s tray and took it back to the kitchen.
Barb, one of the aproned ladies, was stooped over a large sink, washing huge, stainless steel pots. I could not find Millie, so I tapped on her shoulder. She turned around and wiped her hands on her apron and smiled widely. “What can I do for you, sweetie?”
“I’m sorry to interrupt. This tray of food was uneaten. What should I do with it?”
“Oh!” She gestured for me to follow her as if she had a secret to show me. Her round figure wobbled between shelving on either side of a long hallway in the back area of the kitchen. She reached down and pulled out a brown paper bag. “We’ll save that for my pets at home. We can’t reserve the food once it’s been served.”
She grabbed the tray and placed the bread and cookies into the bag, then produced a Ziploc bag and proceeded to dump the uneaten soup into it.
“How nice. Nothing goes to waste. What kind of pets do you have?”
“Oh, just about anything that comes around looking for a handout. Cats, dogs, birds.” She chuckled. “They’re my family. My husband died of cancer five years ago. All my kids are grown and moved away. All I’ve got are my animals and the people here at the mission. And I love them all.”
“I’m so sorry to hear about your husband. And that is so sweet how you take care of strays. I used to do that when I was growing up.”
“Aw, dear girl, we are kindred spirits, now, aren’t we?” She held my one hand and clasped it between both of hers. “Thanks for serving today. I hope you find joy in sharing this little time with those that others try to ignore.”
“I’m so glad I came. I’ve already been blessed by the people here. All of them.”
“I better get back to my pots!”
I turned back and returned to the sink, listening to Barb’s pantyhose swishing as she followed.
Millie was in the kitchen, opening bags of bread at the counter that looked out over the dining area.
“Millie, I know it’s busy, but can I take about five minutes to sit and talk with one of the people out there?” I asked.
She reached out and touched my elbow. “Why, of course, dear. I’ll cover for you.”
She handed me a chocolate-chip cookie wrapped in cellophane from a shelf above her and smiled. “Go on. That one”—she pointed to the girl I was referring to—“needs some cheer.”
My eyes widened in amazement.
How’d she read my mind? I bet she’s very good at spotting ones who need special help. She’s been doing this for quite a while.
Christina was cleaning up the table next to the one I was headed to.
I sat across from the girl and held out the cookie. She grabbed it and mumbled, “Thanks.”
“I’m Olivia. Over there is my friend Christina.” I turned and pointed at her. Christina waved in our direction. “What’s your name?”
She peered up, only one eye visible from beneath the long bangs.
“Angel.”
I almost choked. Surely this wasn’t another of Mike’s disguises. “How old are you?”
“Seventeen,” she said as she chewed a chunk of bread.
“Is this your first time here?”
“Nah.” She took another sip of soup, then broke off a chunk of bread and dunked it in her bowl.
Apparently this girl didn’t want to share anything about her personal life. Obviously she did not want to talk to a stranger. Instead of making her feel singled out I said, “Hey, you’re the first teenager I’ve seen here today, so I thought I’d say hi.”
Then I went with a safe question. “You got a favorite band?”
“Devil’s Opposition.”
Christina glanced at me with a grin as she passed in front of me, a stack of plates piled in her arms. She stopped. “Did you say Devil’s Opposition?”
Angel looked up at Christina and set down her spoon. “Yeah. You like them?”
“I love them. They’re playing at a music festival in the area this April.
It’s free.”
“Really?” she asked with a note of sarcasm.
“A church is sponsoring it.”
Uh-oh. Hope that doesn’t chase her away.
Angel pushed her hair out of her face. “I thought the only music Christians listened to was organ music.”
“Gosh, no,” I said. “There are as many kinds of Christian music as what you hear on the radio. You should come to the festival.”
She shrugged. “Sounds cool.”
I pointed to Eden. “The girl serving soup can give you all the details.”
Then I added, “We’ll both be there, so if you go, try to find us. We’ll have staff T-shirts on.”
She finally cracked a smile.
“Well, I hope we see you at the festival. I have to get back to clearing tables. Millie has been filling in for me. Bye.”
Angel waved at me, then picked up her spoon and bent over her soup bowl again.
I grabbed a few trays people had left after finishing their lunch and took them to the kitchen to be washed. When I came out I saw Angel standing near the serving line, talking to Eden, who handed her a brochure from her purse on the floor behind where she’d been working. The girl shoved it into the back pocket of her jeans and moved toward the exit.
God, I hope she comes to the concert. Help her find You there.
I cleaned up Angel’s tray and trash, then headed to the kitchen and picked up a new washcloth to wipe down some tables since mine was getting very soiled. When I returned to the dining area Angel was gone.
As more people crowded the dining room, Christina and I hustled to keep up. We didn’t talk to any other people, except to say hello and offer a smile, because there were so many of them. No other teenagers showed up. But a few little children accompanied some of the young women who came in. I caught their eyes and smiled at them all and made sure they had cookies when I passed by their tables attending to my task.
When I boarded the bus that afternoon I felt a sense of satisfaction. I’d conquered my fear of homeless people. God let me see them through His eyes.
Christina plopped down on the seat in front of me, her face beaming.
“That was great. We really helped people today, didn’t we?”
“Yeah, we did. I’m glad you invited me to come along.”
“Me too.”
As Eden joined Christina, I thanked God for stretching my faith.
Then I wondered, What would He do to stretch my faith next?