A rare Friday morning
It was one of those rare mornings when I desired to go downtown
for breakfast at one of those places sprouting those famed golden arches. I
worked in the city anyway, and I figured the trek wouldn't be too much out of
my way. And it was a Friday! That also meant that I didn't have a lot of cash
in my pocket. But, then, ah, I realized it was also a payday, that meaning too
that more money was on the way.
Scrounging about I managed to scrape together a little change. I
desirously hoped it was enough to satisfy my craving. I then set out on my
journey.
In a little while, I reached my destination. Upon entering the
restaurant, I pleasantly discovered I did have enough money in my "cash
pocket" to purchase a good breakfast of scrambled eggs, sausage, and hash
browns. Soon – as what perhaps "fast food" implies – there before me
on a tray was my order, ready for me to devour. Ah, but not so fast as I
received the food, but to patiently enjoy my meal.
Handing the clerk my nearly last bit of cash,
I then sought a table where I could begin dining. Seating myself then, yet
before "digging" in, I thanked the Lord Jesus for this bit of
nourishment to enable me to do my job well for His glory.
Something out of the ordinary
As I dined, I scanned the interior of the building. In my
presence it was all adorned in pink; artificial plants and flowers arranged
neatly throughout. Turning about, behind me there appeared another room of a
little different décor than what was before me. That place was of red-colored
brick and entered through a series of simulated brick archways.
Chattering voices throughout the restaurant reminded me that I
was not alone in that place. Others too were there enjoying their breakfast
before the start of their day of business or study, that restaurant located
near the university campus. Some were reading the morning newspaper as well.
Some were well dressed, some casually so. Hence, I assumed some were business
and professional people; some were students.
Continuing to look around, I enjoying my meal, suddenly something
out of the ordinary caught my eye entering that McDonald's restaurant. Somewhat
different from what was already inside, a tall, slim figure of a man—gray-haired
and gray-bearded. His hair was uncombed, probably windblown. He wore a
light-colored topcoat, dirty and wrinkled. He held a dollar bill in his fingers at chest level, perhaps having been given him by someone on the street.
The man approached the counter and waited in line, still holding that dollar
bill before him. A nervous gesture slightly twitched his head. Shortly it was
his turn. He placed his order and handed the girl behind the counter that bill.
She took it and turned away. She soon returned, however, giving that man a
regular cup of coffee with a package of cream and sugar.
With one hand he grasped the cup of coffee; with the other, he
dropped the change from that dollar into his coat pocket, after examining it a
bit. He turned about and returned to the direction of his entrance. Vanishing
out of my sight, he seated himself on the other side of a wall—the last I could
see of him.
Finished with a sigh
Hm-m, I sighed, finishing up the last bit of my meal that
morning at that breakfast table in McDonald's. Suddenly I was struck with
compassion for that man with the dollar bill in his hand.
If I had the money would I buy that man a breakfast such as I
had bought for myself? Would Jesus? (I believe He would.)
How many other people in that restaurant could have afforded to
buy that man a decent breakfast such as they bought for themselves? How many
would?
I finished my dining. Disposing of the trash in the proper,
provided receptacle, I headed toward the exit. As I left the restaurant, I
glanced at that man fondling the now empty coffee cup.
"Oh, Lord Jesus, compel me more with compassion like Yours
that would reach out to others as that man that would touch their lives with
Your love," I prayed as I left that McDonald's restaurant with my
satisfied appetite.
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