“I always wanted to be an airline stewardess,” the woman joked as she offered a snack somewhere between cornbread and pound cake to those of us in the line that snaked around the parish hall after this morning’s 5 a.m. Simbang Gabi Mass. (Wow, I can’t even count the number of prepositional phrases in that sentence. Is there an editor in the house?)
A few minutes later, she was back with some sweet treat rolled in coconut flakes. A few minutes after that, brownies. A few minutes after that, bowls of hot soup.
I’m in awe of my Filipino sisters who so calmly fed probably five hundred people this morning. They’re an amazing team–some cooking in the kitchen, some carrying food out to the tables, and then there’s the lady who feeds people in line. She helped out the morning we Anglos put breakfast together; while we were busy with the cooking and carrying out, she still took food to people in line, some of whom had been awake and at least semi-functional for two hours or more without anything to eat. It’s so thoughtful, so kind.
This morning, I saw Christ in her. He doesn’t wait until we get to the place that we have our plate and plasticware and napkins at the ready, prepared to select from noodles or meatballs or casseroles or fruit or rolls or maybe all of the above. He’s like the lady who brings us food in line: always thinking of us and our hunger, and, his heart moved with pity for us, always ready to feed us, no matter where we are.
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