(by Lorie Codispoti)
I'll never forget that cold, rainy day in December.
The downward spiral of my circumstances had played into my gloomy demeanor, and my emotional reserves had been completely exhausted. I had fallen into a hole of despair and all I wanted to do was run away. So, I did what any self-respecting wife and mother would do; I grabbed the car keys, looked at my husband and said, “Get me out of here!” He was more than happy to oblige since his day had been as equally taxing as mine.
We got in the car and headed out to our favorite little fast food restaurant. On the way out the door I grabbed the small jelly jar that held our emergency money, because this was an emergency.
As we stood in line at our favorite eatery I noticed a tiny elderly woman accompanied by a tall, middle-aged man standing in front of us. They both had a rather shabby appearance with oversized, well-worn clothing and unkempt hair. The volume of the woman’s voice drew the attention, and smirks, of everyone in line. Her friend spoke very little, but smiled attentively throughout their conversation. I felt sorry for the pitiful pair and tried not to stare, but her bubbly voice and cheerful spirit was a magnet for my weary soul.
After her friend ordered and paid for his meal the little woman approached the counter and said to the cashier, “I want the biggest fish sandwich you make!” However, her budget didn’t match her hunger, so she began rummaging through her dirty, worn out purse. Several minutes of searching ensued, and the ire of the growing line behind her was evident. After no avail the woman smiled, looked over at her friend and said, “Well, maybe I’ll just order the smaller sandwich today.”
She went to hand the cashier her money when a quarter fell from her hand and landed next to her foot. My husband bent down to retrieve it for her. My eyes followed him and fixed on something I will never forget. The dingy white tennis shoes on this lady’s feet were wrapped together with silver duct tape.
My heart sank and I suddenly felt very rich with my little jelly jar collection.
After we placed our order, we sat in the booth next to them. We chuckled several times as she spoke to every single person who passed her table on their way to theirs. Her exuberant spirit and thankful heart began to convict me of my attitude and the discontent I brought with me into the restaurant that evening.
(This little lady looked like she had acquired her clothing from a charity bin, and she barely had enough teeth in her head to eat her fish sandwich. Curiously drawn to her captivating demeanor, I surmised that her persona was clearly steps above the poverty line that her outward appearance communicated.)
By this time I had become an unapologetic eavesdropper who shushed her husband whenever he tried to speak.
With a big smile on her face, I heard her tell her friend she was excited about her landlord coming by to fix the holes in her wall. She went on to say that she was hoping to have enough money saved by Christmas so she could buy a telephone and call her children. Not once did we hear her complain about her circumstances. Conversely, she was the happiest person I've ever heard talking about the saddest things in her life. She simply couldn’t say enough about her many blessings.
As I sat there I was reminded of the words the Apostle Paul wrote to the Philippians while he was under house arrest: “I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want.” (Philippians 4:11-12)
After dinner, my husband and I followed the woman out into the parking lot and asked if we could speak to her. She introduced herself as Gladys, and we told her that we wanted her to know how much her cheerful heart and sweet spirit had touched us that evening. After that, we gently proceeded with, “When we were all in line and you dropped your quarter, it landed next to your shoes. We couldn’t help but notice that they look like they’ve served you really well. We’d be honored if you would allow us to buy you a new pair to replace them.”
You'd of thought we gave her a thousand dollars. Gladys received the money with as much of a thankful heart as she displayed to the cashier when she received the medium sized sandwich she had to settle for.
What I learned that day is a lesson that continues to teach me. You see, the reality is that Gladys’ heart wasn’t the one impoverished that night; it was mine! The more I listened the more I realized that I had misjudged the value of a gift, simply because the wrapping paper was tattered. She had the kind of joy that no covering could contain, and she shared it with everyone who passed by.
We never saw Gladys again, but she comes to mind every Christmas season. In fact, she’s become affectionately known as Glad Gladys to our family, for she chose to rejoice rather than whine about her circumstances. She taped her worn-out shoes together and purposed, like Paul, to be “content in every situation.”
Pass the tape! I want to run my race with that kind of joy and contentment.
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