Church was over later than usual that Sunday morning. My (then) husband and I, along with hundreds of others spilled out of the main Sanctuary and started down the walkways and large expanse of lawn that led to the parking lots and annexes below. We were trying to make our way in the crowd to the Children’s Church building and collect our sons from their class. We picked up our guys and started making our way back down along the large church campus while being jostled occasionally by people anxious to collect to their kids and get to their cars too.
As we were walking, I noticed off to the right and across the open grass, a young girl about 10 years old with a younger boy. They were standing very close together holding hands.
I slowed down and kept glancing over at them constantly. I noticed there were no adults standing near them and something just seemed very odd. This was an extremely large church congregation; a few hundred people at least, all who were milling around everywhere. There were people making their way down the sloping hill passing all around the kids down to the parking lots and yet these two children seemed to be alone, standing in a clearing of sorts. “A clearing of souls,” I remember thinking when I saw them.
As we got a bit closer, I thought perhaps the young boy was crying. And then I heard his sister. She was sobbing.
Sobbing.
I hesitated for a minute wondering what was wrong and also if I should get involved. Before my mind could answer, I realized I had broken off from my husband and kids and was cutting across down the hill, my high heels sinking in the ground, as I made my way around other people to the kids. I knelt down in the grass in front of them and asked the little girl what was wrong. I remember her brother’s eyes were so very, very sad.
While crying she told me that when their (children’s) church was over they came out, there was nobody around and she thought her Mom had left them and then all of a sudden there were people everywhere and she was afraid. I told her that ‘big peoples church’ just now got out a bit late, and that I was sure her mom was still here and we would go find their Mom.Just as I stood up and took their hands, Mom appeared. I briefly explained what had happened and she hugged her children promising that she would never, ever leave them or lose them, and next time to stay in class. She thanked me and I watched as they drifted happily off into the crowd, down the hill.
My husband and kids came up and he asked me what that was all about. Why I took off across the grass. Did I know those kids?
I explained what happened. Nothing spectacular. They were just lost was all. But he found it very odd. ”I didn’t see the kids until you went over to them. How did you notice the kids with all these people?” he asked. “How did you hear her crying? And how did the mom find them in the crowd when she didn’t know they weren’t in Children’s Church?” I couldn’t answer. “So in other words,” he continued… “In all the time it took for us to get out of church and get the boys, those two kids are standing out there crying and not one person stopped before you did?” When he said all that, it did seem rather odd. But, I was left with that feeling you have when you do something really good.I had pretty much forgotten about the incident until last night when I read Jeroldssis, author of “It’s All About Me I Think.” And the wonderful entry she recently wrote.
So here’s my secret thought for Judi’s Art essay.
I sometimes think that angels walk among us; yet often go unnoticed. Their wings are concealed, draped in inconvenience.
A gentle whisper of conscious that we often turn away from. You can tell who they are if you help one. Their eyes are full of pain that only the heavenly that are returned to being earthbound know.
I believe they are testing mankind. And so often we fail. But sometimes, if we’re very, very lucky, we listen with our hearts and succeed.
No comments:
Post a Comment