Several years ago a group of computer salesmen from Milwaukee went to a regional sales convention in Chicago. They assured their wives that they would be home in plenty of time for dinner. But with one thing or another, the meeting ran overtime; so, the men had to race to the station, tickets in hand. As they barraged through the terminal, one man inadvertently kicked over a table supporting a basket of apples. Without stopping, they all reached the train and boarded it with a sigh of relief. All but one. He paused, got in touch with his feelings, and experienced a twinge of compassion for the boy whose apple stand had been overturned. He waved goodbye to his companions and returned to the terminal. He was glad he did. The ten-year-old boy was blind.
The salesman gathered up the apples and noticed that several of them were bruised. He reached into his wallet and said to the boy, “Here, please take ten dollars for the damage we did. I hope it didn’t spoil your day.”
As he started to walk away the bewildered boy called after him, “Are you Jesus?”
The man stopped in his tracks. And he wondered.
I wonder what he wondered. Maybe he wondered about his life and what is really important? Perhaps, he dimly perceives the incident as a summary of his life. He is running, running all the time—running to get this done and running to get that done. Maybe he wonders how many other individuals he has hurt or ignored as he rushes about doing his thing? Maybe he hears again and again the boy’s question, “Are you Jesus?” and realizes that he is running too fast to reflect Jesus’ way of love and care.
The man in the story stopped in his tracks. And he wondered. May this story also stop us in our tracks, and may we also wonder: when and where and how does my daily living reflect Jesus’ way of love? Are we running too fast through life to see a blind boy selling apples?
Dear Lord: Help us to slow down and to see those along our path who need your love and our love. Amen.