I asked her if she was hungry and she looked at me out of her one good eye. “Yes! A bowl of soup would be great!“. And so I got it. Hot, steaming tortellini soup, bread to go with it, a banana, and mango Snapple. I stooped down to give her the heavy brown bag and help take the soup out for her. “You need something for your feet!” I said. “I’ll be right back”. “You would do that for me?” said she, completely shocked. I smiled and left her in her usual spot outside the 7 Eleven on Washington Street, but inside, I was feeling a little bit great.
And so I got them. Strong, boot-like slippers with good soles. And as I was buying them I had that little feeling inside again – the “I’m a little bit great!” feeling. I pushed it aside and looked around me, afraid that someone could have overheard that thought, felt the feeling. I would have hated to be found out. To have it discovered that maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t about Sheryl, there was a little something in it for me. A little something that would pat me on the back and say – “Wow – look at you! Aren’t you something?!”
But I pushed the thought down, and resolutely walked back to Sheryl, warm slippers in hand, slightly Pharisaical in my bearing. And there she was. No food. No soup. No banana. No mango Snapple. No napkins. No spoon. No bread. Nothing. Just Sheryl. Sheryl asking me for money.
The Pharisee left and the plain outright mean in me came out. “What’d you do with the soup?” I demanded. “I just bought you soup. Where is it? Where is the banana, huh? Where is the Snapple? I like Snapple, I would’ve drunk it.” She peered up at me with the good eye – “Oh, It’s over there in the square with my boyfriend.”
I was furious. And then I stopped short. I had given away something and it was no longer mine. I gave the food to her, and it was then hers. I had no right to ask her what she had done with it. I had no business giving the food if there were strings attached. The self-righteous part of me was what was angry. I had taken my precious time, when I had things to do and places to go. I had done this for her and look how she repaid me! And I realized that the minute I let those “You’re so great” thoughts come in, it ceased being about her anymore. It was all about me.
I put the slippers on her, humbled. If I choose to give, it can’t be about me. The minute the gift leaves my hand, I have relinquished my right to it. It belongs to the receiver. If it was any other way than it wouldn’t be a free gift. It would be like the offers that fill my inbox promising me a free iPad or trip only to discover that I have to complete 12 to 15 offers and scroll through numerous pages before I can even think about a gift, exhausting me in the process. In the case of Sheryl and me, it has to be about her. That’s what a true gift is. It can’t be about strings attached that would entangle me. It has to be about a free gift and grace.
When I see her again, she may not have the slippers. And I might choose a different way to show I care. But whatever way I choose, it has to be about warm slippers, tortellini soup and God – it can’t be about me.
Marilyn R. Gardner 
I read this post last week and thought of it again as I read in Shane Claiborne’s Common Prayer {A Liturgy for Ordinary Radicals} book: “Lord keep us from trying to distinguish between the deserving and undeserving poor. Help us work to alleviate suffering and injustice wherever we find it, trusting that the rest is up to you.” Never thought of it in quite those terms — “deserving” and “undeserving” — but that’s probably our underlying thought process, isn’t it??
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When reading this, Marilyn, I thought of similar situations I’ve experienced. Such perplexity points me to these words: “Assuredly, I say to you, inasmuch as you did it to one of the least of these My brethren, you did it to Me.” Matthew 25:40
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Such a hard one! So often we want to give but we attach strings to what we give. We’re happy to give if the recipient receives it and enjoys it but not if they don’t value it and give it away. So hard to give without strings…
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Ginger Lundgren wants on your list. Lundgren Ginger
She & Paul went to Pakistan about same time your parents went. They also were w/ TEAM.
I forwarded your latest to several & encouraged them to sign up. Ginger said, “OK. Sign me up.” –so I am, on her behalf.
Russ Irwin
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I am so delighted that you have sent the blog to people! Thank you for your vote of confidence!!
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Oops, I see the email address did not copy, so here it is:
ginlundgren@gmail.com
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oh marilyn — check your i.d. are you sure you’re not me?!
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Oh you would be so much better with Sheryl :) That being said, what do you do in a case like this? If I waited for the perfect attitude I would never do anything. There’s my dilemma – so do I move forward in honesty and say “Ok God, I feel like some of this is about me, and I don’t want it to be, so I’m going to do it and trust you to created good out of it”. what do you think?
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no — i’m NO better at it than you! i do this stuff a lot, and always have to fight with/wonder about that….i succeed better sometimes than others. “he knows our frame, he remembers that we are dust….” i’m just relying on grace to do some real good anyway despite my unclear motives….so i’ve started to think that’s one of our enemy’s strategies — get us so confused about how to have pure motives that we are paralyzed and do nothing… i think the best thing is to laugh at our puny, pitiful egos and carry on being who we are becoming anyway!
also, dallas willard says (and i believe him! :-) that we were created to matter — to do something that makes a difference to someone; that’s a good desire God gave us. so it’s right to feel joy and satisfaction at being able to do something good and to make a difference, and say to God, “wasn’t that fun?!”
and when they go and do stuff with what we gave them that we didn’t authorize, you’re right — we just have to unclinch our tight little hands from our right to control it. it wasn’t ours to start with anyway…we were just passing it on.
end of sermon —
love you!
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