Wednesday, November 7, 2012

Heart Cry

I rank with that group of people who organize their groceries at the checkout stand. Heavy things first, cold stuff stays together, lightweight and bread last. I was in that mode while keeping an eye on Flavia wandering around me and the grocery cart, when I heard a quiet voice call out, "Nene..."

This word is usually used when referring to babies but sometimes people use it for grown-ups too. Naturally I assumed someone was calling out to Flavia. As I saw diapers and powdered milk stretching out towards me, my brain registered that someone was talking to me. I looked up from the conveyer belt loaded down with groceries into sunken cheeks and sad eyes.

"Nene, I am out of money, could you buy these diapers and this milk for me?" Stupidly I nodded yes and then her sad eyes bored into my soul as she begged,

"Pray for me!"

I took the diapers and milk up to the front of the conveyor belt. The cashier didn't even blink an eye, just scanned the items, the emaciated woman bagged them up and then with a smile and a thank you she was gone. It happened so fast, I didn't even know it had happened.

Suddenly I came out of my organizational reverie.

Frantically I searched the store for her. She was no where to be seen. Why hadn't I offered her some food for herself. I had just let her go with only powdered milk and diapers!

I finished my purchases and began the long walk to the car. Long because Flavia was walking two year old slow motion style and I was pushing a cart groaning under the weight of the groceries.

Slowly I drove out of the parking lot looking everywhere for her.


Slowly I drove home, searching the crowds of people for an emaciated body in a yellow tank top and jean skirt.


So I did the only thing I could do and prayed for her, begging God to bring someone into her life to share Christ with her. Someone to help her.

I'm home now, my month's worth of groceries bulging out of my cupboards. I served lunch with enough and then some for everyone in my family. I still feel those eyes boring down into my soul..."pray for me!"...

A package of cookies yielded two per person except for one.  a daughter complained that the others had two cookies, why couldn't she. So I told her of a lady I met at the grocery store who looked like she hadn't eaten a decent meal in a long time. "I think you ate pretty good at lunch today, don't you?"  A quiet, "oh...." came out of her mouth.

And so life's clock continues to click off the minutes. Soon I will be going to cook dinner, a healthy, fulfulling meal . Still I feel those eyes boring down into my soul..."pray for me!"... And so I will pray for her. And the next time I go out I will be looking for an emaciated body in a yellow tank top and jean skirt.

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