THE SHOWER WITH NO FOOD

 

                                        THE SHOWER WITH NO FOOD

My friend Georgina had invited me to a bridal shower for her older daughter Elaine, engaged to the brother of one of the garden trainees.

            A shower!  Bubbling with joy at being included in any private social occasion on the reserve, and thus accepted more and more into the native community, I imagined the scene:  there would be a throne for the bride-to-be, crepe-paper bells and streamers, dainty napkins, party favours, games with prizes, a roomful of dressed-up people and lots of food.  In our culture, the party with its sandwiches, punch, chips and dip, home baking, decorated cake, and prizes was a kind of trade-off for the gifts the guests were expected to bring.

            Whoa there!  People don’t dress up here.  And things will probably be much simpler-perhaps just a cake.  That’s not the point anyway…

            On the evening of the shower, I carefully placed my wrapped gift, the best I could afford on a voluntary worker’s allowance, in a plastic bag and grabbed my car keys for the long, muddy drive to Elaine’s house, where the shower was being held.

 I wonder if I should bring those brownies I have in the freezer…oh well, maybe not.  I wasn’t asked to bring anything, and my family will enjoy them.

Nothing could have prepared me for the sight of eight glum people sitting around a dimly-lit room.  Georgina and Elaine were sitting on an aging orange flowered sofa.  The others were seated on various run-down chairs in an otherwise bare room.  No decorations were in sight.  The atmosphere was anything but partyish.

My gift was duly opened, along with the others.  For over two hours, we made polite conversation.  When no food appeared for the few guests, I began to really wish I had brought the brownies in my freezer.  My heart went out to Georgina:  Georgina whose money ran out before the end of the month, who generously made pies for fundraisers when she could, and did sewing work when she could get it, who was just trying to help her daughter, like any mom. Georgina, who looked upon our family as rich, when the rest of the world considered us poor.  Georgina, who did what she could.

I made the mistake of mentioning the brownies.

            “Mmmm! What kind of brownies are they?”

She just wouldn’t let it go, but, at intervals, kept referring to the brownies, in her childlike way:

“Yup, those brownies would sure taste good right now!”

By then, it was too late and dark, and the trip too long, to go to get the brownies.

Oh, Lord, help me to be more sensitive to needs around me.  You provided food for this shower –through me –but I missed it through selfishness and insensitivity.  In the same way, You have provided abundant food, water and natural resources for every tribe and nation on earth –but the selfishness of mankind has interfered with that provision.  You seek those who would bring water, food, clothing, medical aid, education, justice and the good news of Your glorious Gospel to the poor.

Blessed (Happy, fortunate, to be envied) is he who considers the weak and the poor; the Lord will deliver him in the time of evil and trouble. (Psalm 41:1, Amplified)