The Pantry

This morning an older black woman slowly walked up three flights of stairs to the church offices where I work-carrying five bags filled with miscellaneous items she had collected. She sat down in a wooden chair exhausted from the climb, barefoot, wearing glasses, and asked to use the food pantry and to get out of the cold for a few minutes. As we walked back downstairs to the pantry, I asked her about her day and gave her directions on how to use the pantry. "Bless you" she whispered. I told her that I was glad we have the resources to help her and that I would pray for her. I closed the pantry door and left her alone to shop and went back to my desk. A flood of questions came to me as I thought to myself-where did she come from? Where will she go from here? Were those her glasses? or even her prescription? Where are her shoes? Did she loose them? Were they stolen? How will she open the canned food? Does she have a fork or a napkin? Does she attend church here? How far did she walk to get here? Does she have a warm sweater to go back out into the cold? Later that evening, I was getting ready to meet up with a friend-I rushed home from school, jumped in the shower, kissed my husband, pet the dog, threw open my closet door to look for an outfit, and took the last bite of a energy bar.There in my towel I prayed for the woman I had met and began to cry. I prayed that God may keep her warm tonight and that she may have something in her belly to tide her over and thanked him for our church body being able to provide this small resource to someone in our community. I'm glad I was at work that day-not just to open a simple pantry door but to witness Christ's everlasting goodness, and compassion for those who call on him.