There was a night last
weekend where the restaurant had so many bookings and Christmas parties, I
ended up staying till 1 AM. It was only two guys, me, one manager and this
Italian guy who were left downstairs waiting for this one table of quite a few
people to leave so we could go home as well. When the party left and we got the
tables re-set and all ready for the next day, it was time to go home. I grabbed
my stuff and tired as I was, said goodnight to all those left. The manager that
stayed with us that night was Italian, too; he is such a friendly person and is
the one who helps me with my little Italian language skills. He was walking to
the kitchen as I was opening the door to leave, and so I shouted BUONA NOTTE to
him across the restaurant, and he shouted DOBROU NOC back to me (yes, he tries
to use his little Czech language skills, too.) It was one of those moments that
only last a second, where you see or realize something but as you realize it,
you also realize you’re going to miss it. That maybe didn’t make sense but, as
I opened the door and smiled at the manager and started walking out, I noticed
this other Italian guy sitting at a table around the corner, all tired and
looking a bit lonely, and the moment I saw him I realized I should have said
good night to him, too, because as I turned and walked into the night city, I
heard a quiet shy “Good night.”
I felt so awful! This guy
is always so gentle and kind to everybody, including me. He looked so lonely
and sad sitting there by himself, and I could have shone The Light to his exhausted moment by saying DORMIRE BENE, I bet he would have smiled. But I didn’t. It
would only have taken a second. If I stopped, looked around and saw the
opportunity. It was brought so close to me I could have tripped over it. But I chose to
ignore it instead. I chose to walk away and be too preoccupied by my own
thoughts, by my own needs, by my own life. Oh how I wished that night to give
my life away, to live it for others through Christ completely. Oh
how I
disliked myself that night, for being so busy and blind and selfish.
I was working the next day
again, and again the night was so busy with too many Christmas parties and
yummy turkey dinners and a little too much wine.
At the beginning of the
night I had to go downstairs for cutlery, and when I was coming down the stairs
at the back, this Italian guy was coming up and when he saw me he stopped,
smiled, and said, CIAO PETRA! His kindness and smile shocked me so much I just
stood there, watching him pass me by on his way up, and before I realized it I
was there by myself.
CIAO PETRA. The smile. The
kind heart. The forgiveness. THE GRACE. Like last night never happened. Like
all I disliked myself for was erased completely. Like if I was the prettiest of
all. Like if he just wanted to make my day. Like if he really loved me.
Because
He does!
This back stairs
experience ran right through me, a warm wave of gratitude, confession, love,
thankfulness. This moment - it changed me, it changed me forever.
I never want to live blind
again. I never want to be too tired to rush home or too focused on what’s in my
head to miss what’s right in front of me or too quick to get what I want that I
miss what He wants. Because that’s all that matters. When you go I’ll go, when
you stay I’ll stay, when you move I’ll move, I will follow you. I want my life
to be still. I want to smile the smile of thankfulness when no one understands,
I want to say the kind words when it is so easy to be harsh, I want to be slow
to notice when circumstances ask for busyness, I want to have the arms to hug
tight and long when the world gets so fast it’s blurry and confusing and
hurtful. I want to be the girl who will see the guy behind the corner and say
good night before she walks home to her cozy bed. I want to be different.
Different for HIM.
The prettiest smiles hide
the deepest secrets.
The prettiest eyes have
cried the most tears.
The kindest hearts have
felt the most pain.
No comments:
Post a Comment