Her coffee-colored skin had precious few wrinkles as she smiled, but she was, at best guess, at least seventy-five years old. Her demeanor and grace and kindness felt comfortable, lovely, and quite out of place given the venue.
The festival, with its carnival-type atmosphere, was crowded and humid and smelled mainly of deep fried food. I know many people who adore this festival and its history which dates back over eight decades. Lines for the rides were despairingly long, and some children laughed while others wailed in tired despair. I found it fascinating to watch people open up their wallets to buy overpriced food and trinkets and take rides that for me would create instant queasiness. I know that God wires each of us differently, and so many people would consider it wasteful and boring to vacation at an out-of-the-way log cabin in the mountains. My dream!
Anyway, in the midst of this festival, I stopped off at the public restroom. As I stepped inside, a small woman was hovering by the sinks, shining them with her blue cloth. She looked up at me and smiled, slowly extending her hand in an “over-this-way” fashion.
“Stall nine is open and ready for you. Sparkling clean. I tidied it myself.” She smelled of ivory soap and lavender.
A smile stretched to her eyes and I thanked her. You would have thought she was ushering me into a palace. I heard her welcome another woman in line behind me.
This whole event was small, but her humility shone brightly to me that night. Her pride in a job well done. Her willingness to welcome others.
I should have gone back and thanked her. Told her that I noticed her grace and kindness.
Small acts of sweetness are the most magnificent.
So, as those who have been chosen of God, holy and beloved, put on a heart of compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience…(Colossians 3:12)
The Palest Ink 