Doug Johnson (Blue Skunk Blog) shares a story that begins like this…

I know I lead a sheltered life. I know it because every once in a while I get an unwanted peek into quite a different world…We were happily munching on huckleberry pancakes in the dining room when a pleasant enough looking middle-aged lady at the next table looked up from her constant prayers spoken in an underbreath to let us know in the space of about 10 minutes….
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The story reminds me in an uncomfortable way of when I visited Santiago, Panama. My mom and I had arrived late to Mass being held in a large open-air cathedral, no air conditioning. I sat outside, since there didn’t seem to be enough folding chairs and pews inside. I figured it wouldn’t be long. As I sat reading a local newspaper–in Spanish, which made it all the more fun!–a woman with coarse black hair, a pretty but old faded blue dress came by and sat down on the bench. The odor coming from her was pretty bad but there was no where to go and she engaged me in conversation.

Actually, she spoke and I listened to her tale of woe. As she told me how she’d been abused by her parents, priests and nuns, I prayed fervently the prayer I always say when encountering folks that are clearly crazy. I kept waiting for punch line, the begging, but it never came…her story just got longer and more involved.

What blessings we enjoy. It was a reminder of, as Doug put it, how sheltered I am and I pray that my children and descendants may never encounter blessing’s absence in their own lives.

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