Gone (On the Kindness of Strangers)
I differ markedly from Scarlett O'Hara in that I refuse to rely on the kindness of strangers.
Perhaps it's the independent city girl in me, or just sheer perversity. But it seems quite risky to me to rely on a stranger's kindness.
But I may change my mind yet.
Dinner is served at the school at 7:45 p.m. each evening. But I attended an off-campus lecture last night that ran from 7:30 to 9 p.m. Thus, I missed dinner hour at the school.
I had planned to grab a bite on my way back to the school, but all the shops that I was interested in eating at were already closed. So, I prepared myself to grab an apple from the refectory (there's always a tray of fruit on the counter) and be somewhat hungry until morning.
But one of the sisters (you know, the type that wears a habit) spotted me when I arrived back at the school around 10 p.m. She had just finished cleaning up in the kitchen and was headed off to bed (you would, too, if you had to get up at 5 a.m. to make breakfast for 6 a.m.), but upon learning that I hadn't eaten yet, she insisted on preparing a late dinner for me.
All of my protests that I really didn't want her to go to any trouble for me fell on deaf ears.
All the food that she had just put into the fridge came right back out. Plates that had just been washed were loaded with generous portions. And all the time came the reassurances that she didn't mind preparing this very after-hours dinner for me and that it really was no trouble at all.
There was clearly no refusing her insistence that I eat. So I ate.
The salad and spaghetti really were very good. And so was the dessert. But the best part about the meal was the main course of grace.
I had missed the dinner hour entirely. And there was no reason for the sister to go out of her way for me. And if our positions had been reversed, someone would have gone to bed just a wee bit hungry. Rules are rules, you know.
I'm still not entirely convinced by Scarlett O'Hara's philosophy. But perhaps it isn't entirely risky to rely on a stranger's kindness.
Who knows? I may change my mind yet.
2 comments:
But she's not just a stranger, she's a sister in a habit! Perhaps God is showing you just how much He loves you. :-)
Well, she's a stranger in the sense that we're not friends.
I don't know her name and I'm fairly certain that she doesn't know mine. Further, we speak different languages (her mother tongue is Polish, mine is English, and we communicate in very broken French).
Nonetheless, I was very touched by her kindness.
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