The Good Samaritan

23 May

Last week after church my daughter fell on the sidewalk and skinned her knee.  It was one of those awkward moments when I didn’t have my purse (toolbox) with me.  I squatted down, sitting her on my lap and pulled out an old wadded up tissue that I had stuffed in my pocket.  She was crying loudly and no one stopped, although the sidewalk was full of people visiting after church.  I tried to calculate in my mind how long this tissue was going to last before it gave way and whether the cut would clot before that happened. 

A young mother of two was in her car ready to leave, but she saw my distressed look and brought out a first aid kit from her car.  I don’t know this woman very well as she always sits in the back of the church.  She knelt down beside me and started opening up a bandaid.  I told her that my daughter was HIV+ and thanked her for her help.  The young mother asked me if I was nervous living with an HIV child.  I laughed and told her no, except when I’m caught in a moment like this!  She quietly said that her brother was also HIV+ and that his medication was expensive each month.  I’m sure this was the first time she had ever shared with anyone that her brother was gay.  It was really quite a moment that we could both relate to the same secret we both lived with.  I’m amazed that of all the do-good church people that this young lady reached out to me in my time of need.  Now that’s Jesus to me.

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