The sign read, “Please wait to be seated.” We were traveling through Grand Rapids and stopped at a familiar restaurant chain for breakfast. Our hostess yelled her greeting from across the room, saying she’d be right with us. Scooping up an armload of dirty dishes, I fully expected her to disappear into the kitchen to unload before returning to us. Instead she rushed right over, juggling egg smeared plates and half empty water glasses. She bit her lip in a cartoonish way and immediately began apologizing, “I overslept this morning and I still haven’t caught up! I drove here in my pajamas… and—Oh! Can you please grab a menu and your silverware, my arms are full… Follow me.” She was doing her best to appear cheerful but the vibe was definitely “STRESS!”
Marilyn and I looked at each other and smiled. Carrying our own menus and silverware, we trotted along behind her as she chattered on about her frantic morning. “I had to put on my makeup in the restroom. Here, will this booth do? Oh, yeah! Here, let me wipe your table.” Her arms still loaded with dirty dishes, the three of us looked around for a place for her to unburden herself. Rattling the dishes onto the adjacent table she turned and swabbed our table with a dripping cloth, leaving it swamp-like. Seeing our discomfort, she promised to return with a dry towel and spun toward the kitchen. However, two steps into that project, she spun back around, gave herself a head slap and announced, “I didn’t get your drink order! What’ll you have?”
I thought to myself, “Lucille Ball lives!” When she didn’t brandish an order pad, I knew we were in for even more entertainment. Marilyn, who is much braver than I, went first and ordered black coffee and ice water.
Smiling, our waitress asked, “Do you want cream and sugar?”
Marilyn paused and said, “No, thanks, just black.”
Now it was my turn. I thought I would help the situation by keeping it simple. “I’ll have the same. Make that two coffees and two waters.”
Nodding, she turned to leave then spun on her heels again and asked, “Wait—do you both want two coffees and two waters?”
“Nooooo… just one coffee and water for her and one for me.”
“Got it!” she said as she left for the kitchen, abandoning the dirty dishes still on the empty table.
Marilyn and I tried to stifle our laughter. When she returned, I asked her name and for the first time our eyes connected—and that’s when I saw it. Glistening on her cheek, like a jewel glued to her makeup was a large tear drop. A lone, stubborn tear that I assume had escaped her earlier attempts to make herself presentable to the public. Because we have several friends who have worked for this restaurant chain, we are aware of their policy on lateness; you get one grace pass but after that you may be terminated. Marilyn and I realized she was possibly on the brink of losing her job and it changed our hearts toward her. We went from being aloof and amused to involved and compassionate. We whispered a prayer that she’d have a better day.
Probably because we were traveling, I had woken up in a good mood that morning and her fumbling about struck me as endearing. Too often, I chose to be offended when I’m confronted with poor service. I’ve learned why I do that: I take myself too seriously. We live in a time when it is fashionable to be easily offended, to think of our opinions and our time as too important. The heart of that problem is a problem of the heart, and it makes us unhappy.
The Scripture knows us better than we know ourselves (after all, it was written by the One who made us) and it gives us this secret to a happy life.
“He’s already made it plain how to live, what to do, what GOD is looking for in men and women. It’s quite simple: Do what is fair and just to your neighbor, be compassionate and loyal in your love, and don’t take yourself too seriously—take God seriously. Micah 6:8
Read Ron’s column, Simple Faith, each Saturday on the Faith Page (page 3) of the Lancaster Eagle Gazette, or visit www.lancastereaglegazette.com.