Todays Helping of Chicken Soup for the Soul

[Guest guest]

Ten Cents

By Jeanne

" Miss! Over here! "

" Waitress, could you check on my order? "

" Could you bring the baby some more milk? "

I sighed and pushed the hair back from my eyes. That gray February

lunch

hour found the restaurant where I worked packed with people anxious to

escape

the snow turned to rain. There was even a large standing crowd waiting for

tables. I was already exhausted, I had a splitting headache and it wasn't

even

12:30! How was I ever going to make it through the day?

I'd been plenty grateful to get this job the year before. As a

suddenly

single mom with two small children to support and little in the way of

education

or skills, it had been a godsend to be hired by a better-than-average

restaurant

close to a famous hospital in our city.

As the " new kid " at the restaurant, I had been started off with the

worst

station, a small room at the back of the building. It was a long way from

the

front entrance and equally far from the kitchen, so service there was

unavoidably slower than in the front dining area. The room held two large

tables and several tiny ones by the windows. As a rule, most of the

customers

exiled to the back were either single women dining alone or large families

with

children who were expected to be loud and demanding.

After nearly two years and several new hirees, I was still " stuck " with

the

back room. Usually I didn't mind. The view from " my " windows revealed a

steep

ravine, heavily wooded on both sides, which cradled a small stream at the

bottom. It was a surprisingly beautiful spot to find hidden away in a large

city. With that view, I could relax during off hours and find a moment of

peace.

But today was one of those days when I longed for one of the front

stations. Although I was pushing myself to keep up with the demand, I was

steadily losing ground because of the hazard of getting through the mob

between

my tables and the kitchen. This was made more difficult by the fact that

both

my large tables were filled to overflowing with extra chairs and high chairs

that blocked the aisles.

I stopped for a moment and glanced around to see what were the most

urgent

of the many things demanding my attention.

That's when I saw her. She was seated at the farthest table, jammed

into a

corner, her enjoyment of the view hampered by the unappetizing remains of

someone else's meal in front of her. She appeared to be about 70 years old,

with white hair, a deeply lined face, and hands that testified to a lifetime

of

hard work. She wore an old-fashioned navy straw hat, and a cotton

housedress

under a shabby brown coat that appeared inadequate for the weather. She sat

quietly, with an air of dejection and an expression of terrible sadness.

I hurried over, and as I cleared the table, I began a monologue -

scolding

the hostess for not telling me the woman was waiting and complaining about

the

busboy for not clearing the table. " He'll get no dessert tonight for that

kind

of work! " I added.

She smiled to tell me she knew I was joking, but the smile did not

reach

her eyes.

" It's all right, " she said. " I live on a farm and out that window it

almost looks like home. "

" I'd love to live in a pretty place, too, " I said, but she was not

interested in continuing the conversation.

All she had ordered was a cup of tea. I made sure her tea was hot, and

told her I hoped she'd come back when we weren't so busy. Then the voices

around me called for my attention:

" Waitress! Where is my coffee? "

" Over here! It's been 20 minutes since we ordered! "

And I was back on the treadmill, even farther behind.

When I looked over again, the old woman was gone. I couldn't help but

wonder what had made her so terribly sad.

A few moments later I heard my name called and I looked up to see her

pushing her way through the crowded aisles. " I have something for you, " she

said, and she held out her hand. I put down the plates I was carrying and

dried

my hands so she could give me a dime.

She didn't know that most waitresses here laughed at people who left

only

small change for a tip. Then I thought about how far she had to come,

pushing

her way through the crowd just to give me her money, and how she probably

couldn't afford even that little bit.

I smiled and said, " You really didn't have to do that. "

She answered, " I know it isn't much, but you went out of your way to be

nice to me. I just wanted you to know that I appreciated it. "

Somehow my simple " thank you " didn't seem adequate, so I added, " and

God

bless you. "

Her response was sudden and unexpected. She grabbed my hand and

started to

cry. " Thank you, Lord, " she sobbed. " You knew how much I needed to know

there

was another Christian nearby. "

Leaving the dishes where they sat, I led her to a chair and said, " Tell

me

what is wrong, and if there is any way I can help. "

She shook her head and answered in a rush. " There is nothing anybody

can

do. I brought my husband here for an operation. They thought it was a

hernia

but now they tell me he has cancer and I don't know if he will survive the

operation. He is 72 and we have been married over 50 years. I don't know

anyone here to talk to and the city feels like such a cold and unfriendly

place.

I tried to pray over it but I couldn't seem to find God anywhere around

here. "

She managed to stop crying. " I almost didn't come in here because it

looked so expensive. But I just had to get out of the hospital for a while.

When I was looking out the window in back, I tried praying again. I asked

Jesus

to show me just one other Christian so I would know I wasn't alone and that

he

was listening. "

Still holding her hand I said, " Tell me your husband's name and I will

pray

for both of you every day for a week. "

She smiled and responded, " Please do. His name is Henry. "

With that she stood up and left. I went back to work with renewed

energy.

Somehow I didn't feel tired any more. For some reason, none of my other

customers complained about the delay. I knew that God had conspired that

the

two of us meet and help each other. I was happy to offer her my prayers.

And I

hoped she knew she'd given me far more than 10 cents.

It was suddenly an absolutely beautiful day.