An older woman came by the drive-thru at the Starbucks where I work today. (I work at Starbucks now, if you didn't know). Her eyes were glassy as I took her money, her cheeks flushed, and sadness like gravity pulled down the corners of her mouth. I kept a curious eye on her through the window as her drink was prepared, wondering what was breaking her heart.
As I handed her her drink, I smiled, and hollowly commanded her to "have a nice day," as if that means anything and as if she could, because that's all I know how to do. Her voice cracked as she said "thank you," and she drove away in tears.
I couldn't ask her what was wrong; I couldn't cry with her; I couldn't hold her hand. All I could offer were empty words, and watch her drive away.
Mother God, be near to the broken-hearted.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment