“Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the LORD forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all in perfect unity.” Colossians 3:12-14
Recently, we were out for a walk when I saw her. She was shortish, maybe 5 ft. tall, plump, wearing a bucket hat and holding a basket for change. She had weathered, old-before-her-time skin. Not wanting to make the same mistake of forcing food on someone, I asked as I approached her, “Are you hungry?”
She stared at me.
Thinking she hadn’t heard me because of the loud traffic on the street, I asked again.
Then she started cursing at me in Tagalog. LOUDLY.
I couldn’t understand everything, but I picked out enough words in the torrent to understand that it was highly derogatory. When she moved aggressively toward me, we walked down the street.
We stopped at a bakery stall a good distance away, but could still hear her. She was so loud that two security guards walked over. She stopped when they approached, but after they left she focused her ire on me again.
I felt prickles of apprehension and anger. I also was tempted to feel embarrassed but then I remembered: You are only embarrassed if you let yourself feel embarrassed. After a quick prayer to God for help and guidance, I felt myself calming down.
Then she started walking toward us. And gesturing toward Journie and saying stuff about her. Fear and anger flashed WHITE HOT in me. When she was about 10 feet away, Bjorn approached her and she retreated. But still kept talking.
I looked at Journie’s little, concerned face. “Why is she talking like that to us, Mama?” she asked.
“She’s very angry,” I said, my contempt high. “She probably has a mental illness. That means there’s something wrong with her head. She doesn’t know what’s right.”
The more I talked, the more I felt something in me relenting. Haven’t we all had wrong thoughts, not done the right things?
“Does she have family?” I asked the bakery lady.
She said no.
“Does she have a house?”
The woman slept in the open area of the strip mall across the street.
I looked at Journie. Sighed.
“She should be pitied,” I said.
Bjorn suggested giving her the bag of baked goods we had bought, and just buying more. While he chased her down, people nearby started giving details about her. Apparently, she used all the money she received to buy new clothes.
Bjorn came back with the bag of bread still in hand. She wouldn’t take it; she did, however, accept the money he offered. I sighed again.
I, however, don’t think this act of service was a failure. I’m hoping we influenced others to be nice to her, too. More importantly, I hope we showed Journie you can, and should be, kind to people who need it the MOST— even when you feel the LEAST like giving it.