People in My Path

One of my key beliefs is that God puts people in our paths when we need them to be there. We may think we know why, but often the reason has more to do with others than it has to do with ourselves.

Age is a great leveler of personal worth because it does not matter what is inside: today, it’s all about packaging, not product. Today’s society is a veneer, a thin coating of what passes for the real thing, but which leaves nothing of substance when it is peeled away and the truth that lies beneath is exposed to critical examination. And while some people actually value antiques, far too many more purchase them simply as possessions that demonstrate their fiscal assets, not treasures with intrinsic value in the workmanship that allows the piece to exist sometimes for centuries, an authenticity that cannot be replicated by the “faux antiques” market.

Yesterday, my antique value was validated when God put people in my path not once, not twice, but three separate times. One encounter was with a family member; the second with a student with whom I’ve tussled; and the third was with a complete stranger, a person who wandered into the building last night seeking a chaplain, but who then asked me if I would talk to him as he was having a tough time.

I took time right then to listen, invited him to share the classroom until class was finished, and then took him for tacos at a local fast-food restaurant. He needed people in his path as he was feeling isolated, alone, and not sure what he would do next. He talked, and I listened; and when I talked, he listened. When it was time for me to leave, I invited him to come back next week, to bring a book and sit in the class while we do our thing. He needs people; he needs something to look forward to; he needs to know within himself that he’s going through a rough patch, but this, too, will pass. He agreed, but not before requesting that we talk again next week, after class.

I reminded him that it’s one day at a time, and sometimes, just one step at a time. He doesn’t need to solve all of his issues right now because tomorrow, they may look different to him or they may be replaced with other issues that need his attention. I told him I’ll look forward to seeing him again next week—and I hope that he will, too.

Each of the people yesterday thanked me for sharing my wisdom, complimenting my age, rather than denegrating it as old-fashioned and worthless. You know, the "that's so yesterday" comment that young people glibly toss off when they don't want to hear what you have to say to them.

My mother always said that "You can't put an old head on young shoulders," but I hope that yesterday, the young shoulders were helped by my old head.