Don’t Stare

I remember the day like it was yesterday.
I was shopping with my mother.
It was the days before malls.
It was the days of the department store.

I loved to ride the escalator.
It was a pastime my children somehow inherited from me.
I would ask to ride up the one side and down the other.
Eventually, I was allowed to do that by myself as my mother waited at the bottom.

This day, I was still too young to ride up and down on my own.
This day she was with me holding my hand.
Watch your step when we get to the top, she reminded me.
That was always the tricky part, stepping off at just the right time.

I saw him at the top of the escalator.
He was in a wheelchair right next to where we had to step off.
He was using his arms to move the wheelchair forward.
I kept watching him as he used his arms to move the heavy chair.

We were in the girl’s dress department.
I had to try things on, which to this day is still not my favorite thing to do.
We had some packages that my mother was carrying.
Since she would not be able to hold my hand on the escalator, we walked to the elevator.

I loved to push the button, which is another pastime my children inherited from me.
I ran ahead to push the button first.
I saw the man again, the man in the wheelchair.
He was waiting to use the elevator, too.

He smiled at me.
My mother was not far behind.
He had packages, too.
They were on his lap.

The doors opened.
My mother touched my shoulder and gently held me back.
Go ahead, sir, she said kindly.
I watched him use his arms to maneuver his wheelchair into the elevator.

My mother and I walked in behind him.
It was just the three of us inside the elevator.
Are you going to push the button, little miss? He asked sweetly.
I looked at my mother who gave me a go ahead look.

I pushed the button with the number one since we all were ready to leave the store.
Good job, little miss, the man said.
I liked being called that name by this kind man.
It made me feel special.

It was then I saw it.
The man in the wheelchair had one leg.
Only half of his other leg was there.
His pant leg was folded neatly beneath him.

My mother saw that I noticed.
As the man adjusted the packages on his lap my mother whispered to me.
Don’t stare, she said very quietly.
I obeyed and just looked down at the ground.

How old are you, little miss? the man said as the elevator went to to the first floor.
Six, I said still looking at the floor.
Little miss, I bet you’re wondering what happened to the rest of my other leg? He remarked.
I wanted to look at him but I didn’t want to stare.

I am a veteran; do you know what that means? He asked me.
No sir, I said quietly still looking down.
Little miss, you can look at me, it’s OK, he said as much to my mother as to me.
I looked at his kind eyes and smiled.

The elevator reached the first floor and the doors opened.
My mother touched my shoulder and gently held me back.
She put her hand against the door so it would not close as he wheeled himself out.
He turned his wheelchair around and waited for us.

I was in a war, probably like your father or an uncle or a friend of your family.
My mother grabbed my hand.
Many of the young men of her generation went to war.
Some did not come back; some came back with their pant leg folded neatly beneath them.

I love my country and I wanted to make it a safe place for a little miss like you.
I instinctively grabbed his hand.
I wasn’t staring.
I was looking at a man who lost part of his leg for me.

I didn’t know what to say as a six year old little girl.
I hope that grabbing his hand was somehow enough.
I hope, in my limited understanding, he saw that I was grateful.
I know that my mother said a few private things to him before he wheeled off.

I didn’t stare, I said to my mother.
You did just fine, honey, she assured me.
I am sure glad you grabbed his hand though, she said as she grabbed mine.
I was glad about that, too.

When John heard in prison what Christ was doing, he sent his disciples to ask Him, “Are you the one who was to come or should we expect someone else?” Jesus replied, “Go back and report to John what you hear and see: The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cured, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is preached to the poor. Blessed is the man who does not fall away on account of me.” (Matthew 11:2-6)

John the Baptist leapt in his mother’s womb when Mary, the mother of Jesus came to visit.
John’s mother was filled with the Holy Spirit and said more than she knew.
But why am I so favored that the mother of my Lord should come to me? (Luke 2:43)
Jesus, the Lord, the Messiah had come.

But John was put in prison for doing the right thing.
John told Herod that it was not right for him to have his brother’s wife.
For that right thing, John was put in prison and eventually beheaded.
How could Jesus be the Messiah, if He allowed John to be put in prison?

John stumbled, just like we all do when we come face to face with Jesus.
Jesus is often not what we expected at all.
Jesus often does the opposite thing of what we think He should do.
Jesus set John straight.

Jesus told John’s disciples what He had been doing.
Everything Jesus said pointed to the fact that Messiah was indeed here.
Jesus healed the sick, the blind, the deaf, the lame, and He raised the dead.
No other signs were necessary.

Sometimes when you stare something in the face you still miss it.
Sometimes when things are explained to you gently, you finally get it.
The Kingdom of God has come.
Jesus is the Sent One and we should not expect anyone else.

Jesus came and turned the world upside down.
Don’t stare at what the world has to offer; it is shallow and will disappoint you.
Grab the hand of Jesus.
He loves you so much that He died and rose again so that you can be with Him in heaven.

Do you hear Him?
I love you, little miss.
I love you, little man.
One day you will stare into His kind eyes and you will know that He really means it.