ann kiemel

jan and i sitting at a fancy, little
pastry place that we love.

jan looked at me, and asked,
"what does it mean to be my brother's keeper?"
earlier, i noticed a man in a wheel-chair.
a double amputee. he asked me for something to
eat. not for money, but food.

the boss, standing there, told me not to pay any
attention; just ignore him. not knowing, really, what to do, i
walked back to my loft, with that question pounding in my mind.

jan drove over for a visit, and we returned to the pastry
place, hoping we might find the disabled man. he was
no where in sight. jan left a piece of paper with her name
and phone number in case that man, or any really needy person,
was hungry. feed the poor, she instructed.

similarly,
i ran over to the chinese take-out for our dinner.
we lived in modesto, and my two youngest were still
in high school. while i waited, an asian family walked
in close to where i was standing. is there any food we can
have? they asked. they were immediately escorted out, and
i was stunned. broken-hearted.

quietly,
i counted what cash i had,
and as they handed me my food, i
tucked $50 into their hands, and asked them
to PROMISE me that if that family came again, they would
feed them as much food as they needed, and i would reimburse
what, if any, more was needed.

we ARE others' keepers . if someone is hungry or naked or weak,
we are Jesus to them. Jesus helps us know those moments.
we are not to walk away. show us, Jesus. speak to us. and
may we be listening and watching.