Feb Word Catalyst article "http://www.wordcatalystmagazine.com/pages102/beamscol102.html/"
Take a look around....there are some fascinating folks who write there. Hmmm...now that I think of it, I'm not sure why they continue to post my work!!
Friday, January 29, 2010
Sunday, January 24, 2010
I watched a young boy in front of me count out his change. He handled each penny as if it was gold. Still it was not enough. He turned the coin purse inside out hoping for another quarter. When there was none, the cashier cleared his register and set the bread and milk aside.
“Son, I’m sorry. Corporate rules won’t allow us to extend credit any longer. You’ll tell your mother the news won’t you?”
Without expression the youngster collected the coins as if he understood corporate rules completely. The cashier looked at me oddly as I retrieved his items and ran each across the scanner adding them to my bill. When I handed the boy his bag the expression that washed over his face was one of confusion.
“Sir, why would you do this for me?”
There was no time to explain the entire story of the Good Samaritan, or of a woman at the well. I knelt down and placed my hand on his shoulder.
“Son, you only needed a little and I have been blessed with much.”
His eyes of chocolate darted from his own clothing to mine, from the soiled change purse to the credit card I held in my hand.
“But, Sir, if my mother should ask, how will I explain?”
“Tell her truth—tell her that God arranged our meeting today and that we were both blessed by it—and most importantly tell her you love her.”
I sat in the parking lot watching the boy’s form grow smaller in the horizon. As different as we appeared to be, we were the same; the boy is me, the boy is you. No matter how successful in the eyes of the world we become we are no more able to pay our heavenly debt than a poor boy with a change purse. Earthly goods and accomplishments cannot buy our freedom. Only through the grace of God and the sacrifice of his Son can our debt be forgiven.
So if during the course of the day your mother should ask, gently kiss her on the forehead and tell her you love her. You’ll also tell her tell her the news, won’t you—that you’ve met a friend who has the power to change everything.
“Son, I’m sorry. Corporate rules won’t allow us to extend credit any longer. You’ll tell your mother the news won’t you?”
Without expression the youngster collected the coins as if he understood corporate rules completely. The cashier looked at me oddly as I retrieved his items and ran each across the scanner adding them to my bill. When I handed the boy his bag the expression that washed over his face was one of confusion.
“Sir, why would you do this for me?”
There was no time to explain the entire story of the Good Samaritan, or of a woman at the well. I knelt down and placed my hand on his shoulder.
“Son, you only needed a little and I have been blessed with much.”
His eyes of chocolate darted from his own clothing to mine, from the soiled change purse to the credit card I held in my hand.
“But, Sir, if my mother should ask, how will I explain?”
“Tell her truth—tell her that God arranged our meeting today and that we were both blessed by it—and most importantly tell her you love her.”
I sat in the parking lot watching the boy’s form grow smaller in the horizon. As different as we appeared to be, we were the same; the boy is me, the boy is you. No matter how successful in the eyes of the world we become we are no more able to pay our heavenly debt than a poor boy with a change purse. Earthly goods and accomplishments cannot buy our freedom. Only through the grace of God and the sacrifice of his Son can our debt be forgiven.
So if during the course of the day your mother should ask, gently kiss her on the forehead and tell her you love her. You’ll also tell her tell her the news, won’t you—that you’ve met a friend who has the power to change everything.
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