If you caught the Vols game against Florida last week, well you’ll know why there's no complaining here! It was a good game, and no true Tennessee fan took the winning score for granted until the clock was out. (We've learned by experience!) And even though I've started this site to be all goofy-funny-thoughtful, like I normally am, today, I'm feeling a little more turquoise than orange.
Last night, I went out for a drink with some friends. A nice, not too shabby sort of establishment, but really only one notch above your regular, neighborhood bar. And halfway through the evening, I went to the ladies'. Normally, nothing remarkable about that, right? Well, when I came out of the stall, there was an attendant there, which seemed a little odd, given the shabbiness of the restroom. Then, I noticed that she seemed really young. And a little too cheerful. She had an array of bottles and candy spread out at the end of the counter, and she had way too much makeup on. She offered me candy or perfume, and I politely declined. Then as she handed me a towel to dry off my hands, I actually looked at her. I don't know what it was, but there was something unusual there. Whenever I've encountered bathroom attendants before, they’ve seem like older, beat-down women. Tired and bored. This young girl had some hope in her eyes. And actually seeing hope in a dirty pub bathroom hurt. I fumbled around in my purse and realized I had no money, so I left. But back at the jovial table, I couldn’t get her off my mind. I asked my husband for a few dollars—"trust me"—and went back to the bathroom. I stopped, winked, and handed her the money and told her to "be well." (What a dork! Be well? Like *that’s* going to help!) But, I didn't know what to say. She seemed very happy and surprised I'd returned (how many people do that?). In the end, she's haunted me through the night and into the next day. I think I may have actually recognized her from a ministry I participated in a while ago. In any case, I'm bugged. Not to wax melodic a la John Lennon on you, but there’s too much damn hurt and lonliness in the world! Who's taking care of all these people? I’m almost certain that little girl was homeless and possibly prostituting herself when she wasn’t working as a, possibly unwelcome, bathroom attendant. She seemed to be getting by well enough, but does she have someone to look out for her?
I've always known that I’ll work well in a "helping" profession, but I've always hesitated because I'm not sure if I can avoid carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders. I've watched my husband develop a healthy discerning eye to distinguish between the people who need him and the people who think they need him. How am I going to do that? How am I going to serve God and his people without losing myself?
And most of all, what more could I have done for the little girl in the bathroom?
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