By Chelle A. Carter-Wilson
“for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me…” Matthew 25:35 (NRSV)
God moves us through the world in ways that continually surprise us, when we pay attention. In the third act of my life, while it may appear that I have moved away from the places where I began, God continually anchors me to my deepest, most sacred roots.
I don’t have to think about doing what I do; it is who I am. While I am entering a new season solo, I am not now, nor have I ever been, truly alone.
My youngest sister came to visit for a few days. We were returning home from a walk to my favorite coffee spot, Sankofa. On the street where I live, we engage like folks from a different time, where neighbors check on one another regularly. We were steps from turning onto my cul-de-sac when an ambulance screamed past us, sirens blaring. Before I could text my next-door neighbor, my cell phone rang in my hand.
An elderly neighbor was en route to the hospital, and according to my caller, the situation was not dire. In fact, the neighbor returned home much improved in just a few days.
I checked in with her to see if there was anything I could do, and hers was a simple request: coffee. We share a love for a well-brewed cup and often trade stories about where we source our beans and how we prefer them ground. Back home in my kitchen, I ground and brewed a full pot, and not wanting to send it in a workaday pot, reached into my china cabinet for an inherited piece. I know little about it, but it is clearly mid-century modern, and I was certain she’d appreciate receiving the gift in this form even more.
My daughter dropped it off and checked in on the neighbor. As much as my neighbor appreciated the coffee and the visit, she took great pleasure in the pot.
A few days later, my neighbor called, inquiring about the pot. She asked if it was part of a set, and mentioned that she’d love to see it. Sadly, I never remembered seeing the full set. When my elderly in-laws downsized, I rescued pieces I thought they might enjoy seeing or using, despite not having the storage space to keep them near. When they were our guests, or at times when I brought something special to them, I’d occasionally include a piece inside my baskets, chosen to delight and surprise them, potentially inspiring them to reveal the story of its origin.
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