– even waiting with us at church as we wait
tables each Thursday morning when volunteers
serve breakfast to one-hundred people or more
who gather in our countryside community.
By nine, the rush hours end, but then a young
couple came in late and only asked for toast.
I brought it on a small plate and couldn’t help
but notice the woman seemed distraught. Her
shoulders quaked as though she’d seen a ghost,
but, more likely, she had taken a deep chill or
bore some sorrow that had shaken her very core.
What more could we serve her but prayer? We
asked, and she said yes, and, praise God, we found
You there, Lord, in our very core, waiting tables.
by Mary Harwell Sayler, © 2016