Fw: The sparrow At Starbucks

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Beautiful story. Enjoy! Love, Judy The sparrow At Starbucks >> THE SPARROW AT STARBUCKS> by Oaks>> It was chilly in Manhattan but warm inside the> Starbucks shop on 51st Street and Broadway,> just a skip up from Times Square.>> For a musician, it's the most lucrative Starbucks> location in the world, I'm told, and consequently, the> tips can be substantial if you play your tunes right.>> I was playing keyboard and singing backup for my> friend who also added rhythm with an arsenal of> percussion instruments. During our emotional rendition> of "If You Don't Know Me by Now," I noticed a lady> sitting in one of the lounge chairs across from me. She> was swaying to the beat and singing along.>> After the tune was over, she approached me. "I> apologize for singing along on that song. Did it bother> you?" she asked.>> "No," I replied. "We love it when the audience joins in.> Would you like to sing up front on the next selection?">> To my delight, she accepted my invitation.>> "You choose," I said. "What are you in the mood to sing?">> "Well ... do you know any hymns?">> Hymns? This woman didn't know who she was dealing> with. I cut my teeth on hymns. Before I was even born,> I was going to church. I gave our guest singer a knowing> look. "Name one.">> "Oh, I don't know. There are so many good ones.> You pick one.">> "Okay," I replied. "How about 'His Eye is on the> Sparrow'?">> My new friend was silent, her eyes averted. Then she> fixed her eyes on mine again and said, "Yeah. Let's do> that one.">> She slowly nodded her head, put down her purse,> straightened her jacket and faced the center of the> shop. With my two-bar setup, she began to sing.>> Why should I be discouraged?> Why should the shadows come?>> The audience of coffee drinkers was transfixed.>> I sing because I'm happy;> I sing because I'm free.> For His eye is on the sparrow> And I know He watches me.>> When the last note was sung, the applause crescendoed> to a deafening roar. Embarrassed, the woman tried to> shout over the din, "Oh, y'all go back to your coffee!> I didn't come in here to do a concert! I just came in> here to get somethin' to drink, just like you!">> But the ovation continued. I embraced my new> friend. "You, my dear, have made my whole year!> That was beautiful!">> "It's funny that you picked that particular hymn,"> she said.>> "Why is that?">> She hesitated again, "that was my daughter's favorite> song." She grabbed my hands. By this time, the> applause had subsided and it was business as usual.> "She was 16. She died of a brain tumor last week.">> I said the first thing that found its way through my> silence. "Are you going to be okay?">> She smiled through tear-filled eyes and squeezed my> hands. "I'm gonna be okay. I've just got to keep> trusting the Lord and singing his songs, and> everything's gonna be just fine." She picked up her> bag, gave me her card, and then she was gone.>> Was it just a coincidence that we happened to be> singing in that particular coffee shop on that> particular November night? Coincidence that this> wonderful lady just happened to walk into that> particular shop? Coincidence that of all the hymns to> choose from, I just happened to pick the very hymn> that was the favorite of her daughter, who had died> just the week before? I refuse to believe it.>> God has been arranging encounters in human history> since the beginning of time, and it's no stretch for me> to imagine that he could reach into a coffee shop in> midtown Manhattan and turn an ordinary gig into a> revival. It was a great reminder that if we keep> trusting him and singing his songs,everything's gonna> be okay.>>