For Wilshire Baptist Church
It’s happened before and it happened again: I was mowing the lawn and noticed movement out of the corner of my eye. I turned to see our neighbor coming across the street, elbows raised high, with a small white cup and saucer in his hands. It was time for coffee and conversation.
I suppressed a grumble that said, “I really need to get the yard mowed before it starts raining,” and I swallowed back my discomfort about the fact that my neighbor doesn’t speak English and I don’t speak Spanish. That apparently doesn’t bother him because he’s the one who always comes across the street. He’s the brave one; he’s the one with the gift of hospitality.
So we stood on the sidewalk, me sipping the cup of potent espresso from his native Cuba and he watching and smiling. Uncomfortable with the silence, I paused between sips – you don’t gulp café Cubano – and asked, “Como se dice?” (“how do you say?”) and pointed to something and he nodded and gave me the Spanish word. I nodded back and gave him the English word. I’d like to think we are both learning a little, except that I don’t have a good memory for the words he’s given me for grass, lawn mower, sky, rain, heat, sidewalk, work. I do remember “gracias” as I hand him the empty cup.
We’ve done this several times and we’ll probably do it again. In between these one-on-one moments of coffee and conversation we wave from across the street. Sometimes I say “hola” and he replies with “howdy,” but often the greeting is silent.
It’s not unlike the conversations we have with LeAnn’s father nowadays. Words and meanings don’t always connect, but there still is an understanding of the main message, “We love you.” We express that in words and deeds and sometimes by just sitting quietly beside him. Sometimes he responds with words we understand, and sometimes we see it in his eyes.
It’s the language of hospitality and caring, and it requires patience and bravery. You can only hear it and speak it if you stop what you are doing and make yourself present in the moment.
LeAnn has been reading a book of quotes by Fred Rodgers, and she read this one to me recently: “The purpose of life is to listen – to yourself, to your neighbor, to your world and to God, and when the time comes, to respond in as helpful a way as you can find . . . from within and without.”
Sometimes that response can be as simple and yet as powerful as standing on the sidewalk with a cup of coffee or sitting quietly on the edge of a bed.