“They are the roses in December; you remember someone said that God gave us memory so that we might have roses in December.” -J.M. Barrie, “Courage”
The first line of this quote is tattooed under my left collarbone. I remember reading this quote when I was 15 and crying because it touched my heart so deeply. I remember being so taken aback that someone could turn losing people into something beautiful. That someone could thank God for the memory of something instead of crying out in pain and anger for a life that involved losing people.
The organization we’re staying with has a ministry named ‘City Feed’ that they administer every night, Monday through Friday. At City Feed, a large group of homeless gather in the same place and receive a hot meal– maybe the only meal they will have all day. But something about City Feed was always so much different than feeding mouths of people with less fortunate situations than mine.
It started with requirement. I was required to go on Wednesdays, and if I’m being honest, I hated it. I hated being surrounded by people, I hated interactions where I sometimes failed, and I hated being looked at by a big crowd.
However, it ended with a rose.
One night, our team was doing a thing called ‘listening prayer’. This is where we pray in silence and ask God to show us things that will benefit our walk. My team leader saw a man, who she described with grey facial hair and chubby cheeks. And sure enough, that night at city feed, I saw a man who stuck out to me so clearly that I couldn’t sit back and ignore it. He looked exactly like Haley’s description, and even though she wasn’t there, I could tell that he was the person I was supposed to talk to that night.
His name was Norman. Norman asked for prayer for work. Norman knew many things about fishing. He knew how to cut the fish, when the fishing season would change, and he had stories and stories about the things he had done. And Norman had joy.
Every night at City Feed I prayed for work for Norman, and listened to stories of fishing and his travels. And Norman would tell me about how he loved everyone regardless of race or gender or age. He talked about how he didn’t understand the hatred of the world. To him, nothing mattered but the heart of the person. And he told me when I prayed for him that he would think about the words I said in the cold nights, and that he was always so happy to see us.
I wish that I could tell you about my friend Norman in a way that you would know him. I wish that I could let you hear the sweetness of his voice. I wish that I could show you his heart and show you how much comfort he brought to me.
The truth is I was never here to change the world. I was never here to do great things, but to experience them. I was never hear to teach, but to learn. God does the other things. I am merely a vessel, trying as hard as I can to receive the gifts of the Lord.
One night Norman was late for City Feed. When he finally came, he told me that a man had come to tell him that a girl wanted to talk to him, and that’s when he came to see me. He asked if I had sent the man, but I didn’t. I believe that God did. I believe that I needed Norman. I believe that he is a blessing from God to my life.
Our last night of City Feed was this week. Norman wasn’t there on my last night, Thursday, and I wasn’t going on Friday. I remember feeling a sadness in my chest. Friday night, my teammate talked to Norman. She said he took her hand and asked her to tell me that he wishes me success in everything I do.
And after this, I did remember the tattoo under my left collar bone. How blessed am I that I have the memory of this December rose. How blessed am I that I get to see glimmers of God through the small things I do. How blessed am I to see the joy and the beauty of such a spirit. How blessed am I to have the memories of this man, to hold in my heart forever.
It started with requirement, but it ended with the sweetest rose.
How beautiful is my God.
